House of Cards
by Tracy2
Summary: Sequel to Thrill of the Chase. Steve and the gang must try to come to terms with Melosa and the new plans she has for them. STORY NOW COMPLETE. Thank you again for all your kind words.
1. Chapter One

**The House of Cards**

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan-fiction, written, and hopefully read, strictly for enjoyment. The main characters of Mark, Steve, Amanda, and Jesse, as well as Ron Wagner and any others that you recognize are from the series Diagnosis Murder, and as such are the property of CBS/Viacom. Anyone that is new belongs to me.

**A/N **This is the sequel to The Thrill of the Chase and follows on almost immediately from that story.

Once again I have to mention my loyal band of beta readers who help me iron out the rough bits. Ladies, you know who you are and I hope you know how much your help means to me. Thank you.

**Chapter One**

"Let me go! No … please … let me go!" The scene swam before his eyes, the room seemed far too long to be real but he knew it was. The stones, he recognised the stones and the table and chairs which had always been just out of his reach. All that was there – it had to be real.

His wrists were restrained, he could see the metal glint in the sunshine, but how could it be sunny if the room was dark? He pulled and fought against his chains he had to get free, had to get to his dad.

"Dad … no … Dad." He could see him, the other side of the room, he was lying on the ground, and she was there, a gun in her hand which she was pointing at his father.

"DAD! … NO!" He shot up in the bed, sweat pouring off him, unable to stop the uncontrollable shaking of his body or the agony his movements caused.

"Steve, it's alright. I'm … I'm coming, Son." Mark made his way, finally, into the bedroom, his breath coming in short gasps as he leant against the doorframe for a moment.

"Oh, God." Steve ran his left hand over his eyes and then flopped back down in the bed totally exhausted by his dream. His right shoulder shouted its displeasure and a cry of pain escaped him.

Mark walked slowly across to the bed where his son lay and sat in the chair which was next to it. He reached out and took the younger man's hand into his own and held it tightly knowing that it was going to be another long night for both of them.

ooo

"I just wish you didn't have to go back is all I'm saying." Amanda sat at the table in the doctor's lounge, a cup of coffee and a sandwich in front of her, talking to the tall, good looking man opposite her.

"I know, and I don't want to either, but I have no choice." Ron grimaced; the phone call had been short and not at all sweet.

_"Wagner?"_

_"Yes, Sir."__ Ron had been surprised to get the call from his superior officer at five in the morning, especially as he was still on vacation. He was awake but only just._

_"I see you've made the papers." The voice showed that his boss was not a happy man. "Maybe you would like to bring me a copy."_

_"Yes, Sir.__ I'll be on the afternoon flight." The sound of the other phone being disconnected had told him that the call was over. _

"I'll miss you."

"Honey, you know I'll miss you too. But it's my job. I can't ask you to move, not again, and even though I've put in a request nothing's come of it yet." Ron opened his own pre-packed plastic sandwiches and looked at them long and hard. Finally, knowing that until he got back to his apartment in Virginia it was this or airline food, he picked one up and took a bite.

As he washed it down with a mouthful of his coffee Ron saw Jesse coming along the hallway and watched as he too came into the lounge.

"Hey, lovebirds!" Jesse grinned as he spoke, knowing he was far enough away from Ron to have a good head start for a trauma suite.

"Jesse." Amanda just beamed but then looked serious. "How were they?"

He had just finished his daily house call to Mark and Steve and Jesse sat down at the same table and looked at Ron's lunch. "Are you gonna eat that?"

"Yes. So how are they?" Ron purposely took a slightly larger mouthful than usual and almost choked as he saw the disappointment flash across Travis's face. But then the moment was over and Jesse began to talk.

"Still not good. Steve had another nightmare last night, and Mark isn't well enough to be worrying about anyone other than himself. Not that he would agree. I'm gonna go sleep there tonight, at least that way if the dreams return Mark won't be hurrying down a hallway when he should be in bed himself."

Amanda smiled; she would take a shift but CJ and Dion needed her, and with Ron going back to Quantico after a very pleasant two week vacation she had to stay home. But during the day, while the children were in school, she would visit and help in any way she could.

"I suggested that Steve see James Barrington." Jesse watched Amanda's face as he spoke and saw the amazement there.

"And how did he take it?"

"Oh, just how you would expect Steve Sloan to take the suggestion that he goes and sees a shrink. But they won't let him back to work without at least one visit so he knows he has to go."

"Well, he has another month at home before you'll even think of letting him back to desk duty so he has plenty of time to go see him and you have plenty of time to look for a new job!"

"Oh ha ha!" Jesse tried a half hearted laugh and then grimaced. The comment was almost not funny.

ooo

The sun was shining down on him as he sat on the deck and with a sigh Steve changed his position just slightly so that he didn't ache quite as much as usual.

Every part of him had been injured except for his legs and each time he even breathed his ordeal came back to him.

He knew that Jesse was right; he needed to go see a shrink. Carefully shaking his head Steve thought that decision over. He'd seen them before, the LAPD was careful to monitor the mental health of its officers, but it had never been voluntary. Now though, when he had so much guilt and fear weighing him down, he knew that there was no other choice than to open himself up and let someone know how he was feeling. He couldn't tell his dad or Jesse, Amanda and Ron weren't an option either, so it had to be a stranger. At least this time the stranger should be able to help him.

Carefully, knowing that there was no time like the present, he reached out for his cell phone on the table next to him and speed dialled the number for Community General Hospital.

ooo

James Barrington looked at the man across the desk from him and waited as he composed himself. It was clear that Lieutenant Steve Sloan was still suffering physically from his ordeal, whatever that ordeal had been, and he didn't want to distress him any more than he clearly already was.

Slowly Steve got his breathing back under control. He hadn't wanted to use a wheelchair or a cane and had made his way painfully and slowly from the parking lot to the therapist's office under his own steam. He wasn't sure, however, if he would be able to make the return journey in the same manner.

There was a carafe of water on the desk in front of him and Steve looked at it, wondering if he could actually lean forward and pour out a drink and grew furious with himself that such a basic task was beyond him.

"Would you like a drink, Lieutenant?" James Barrington's voice was deep and even, it reflected his personality and his appearance almost totally. A tall black man he was obsessive about both his dress and his physique. Both things were apparent with no more than a cursory glance at the therapist but there was something more there, a compassion which was visible both in his eyes and in the way that he greeted and dealt with everyone who crossed his path.

"Thank you." Steve looked up and saw a man that he knew he should be able to trust; but the problem was he wasn't sure that he could trust himself to do so.

The room was quiet for a minute or two more as Steve drank his water and carefully considered what to say first. Finally, he looked up with a sad smile.

"I have no idea how to start this."

"Very few people do, Lieutenant. I have the basic information which you kindly filled in on the form I sent you, so if you prefer I can take some of that and ask you questions to start the ball rolling as it were."

Steve nodded his head. The form had arrived two days earlier and he had sat in the guest room of the beach house and read through it. The covering letter had said that although it wasn't common practice he, Doctor Barrington, preferred to have some information before the first consultation and would Mr. Sloan please complete and return the enclosed sheets as soon as possible.

He had found it a cathartic process just writing down the basic information. One of the benefits of being left handed was that most people assumed you wouldn't be so. The thugs who had beaten him up had, for the time being, destroyed his right arm, but he was still able to write, to shave, brush his teeth, do all the normal things because of their mistake and being able to fill in the form increased his self esteem just a little.

Now those sheets were sitting on the desk in front of his counsellor and with his heart pounding ridiculously loudly in his chest Steve waited for the first question.

ooo

"All I'm saying, Mark, is that if Steve can find it within himself to go see a therapist then perhaps you should too." Amanda put the cup of hot coffee down in front of her friend, sat next to him at the large round dining table at the beach house and took a sip from her own drink.

"I don't need to see anyone; I just need to get back to work. I'm going stir crazy here!"

"Mark, you aren't ready to go back to work yet, and you know it. You had major surgery, an infection that wouldn't go away, and an experience so traumatic that no one can empathise with you." As soon as she said it Amanda knew it had been wrong.

"Well, if no one can empathise with me, there's no point in me going to see anyone now is there?"

"Mark, you know what I mean. We were there, we saw you, how much you were suffering, but however much we love Steve, he isn't our son. You need to talk to someone, someone who doesn't know him, doesn't love him like you do or we do and begin to come to terms with the fact that not only did you almost lose your own life, but you almost lost your son too." Amanda had fought to keep her voice strong and firm as she spoke, knowing that if she wavered then Mark would see the weakness she was feeling, the difficulty she herself was having with all that had happened. Her own problems were not going to intrude at the moment, she wouldn't let them.

"I know that. Do you think I don't know that? I look at him, trying to just take one breath after another and I see the agony he's in. I know he nearly died and if he had I wouldn't have been there. I would have woken up and he would have gone. I can't explain how that feels to anyone else because no one else knows what he means to me."

The stubbornness in his eyes had told Amanda not to pursue the topic and so instead she had taken another mouthful from her coffee and looked out at the crashing surf. Realising that she had some good news she turned again and smiled.

"I got an e-mail from Ron this morning."

"That's nice. How is he?" Mark dragged his mind back from the thoughts which were constantly running through it, pushed the picture of his son, beaten, both mentally and physically, away and tried to concentrate on what his friend was saying.

"He's been trying to get a transfer to California, to the Los Angeles Field Office without success for a while. There still isn't a full time vacancy but he has been seconded here for six months as a training officer. Isn't that wonderful?"

"What? Honey, I'm sorry, what is he training for?" Mark pulled himself back just in time to hear that something about training was wonderful.

"No, Mark." Amanda was hurt, she tried not to be, but he wasn't even listening to her. Then guilt took over and worry too. Maybe he couldn't concentrate on her words. With a smile that she didn't really feel Amanda began again, watching Mark's every reaction.

This time he heard each word and really was pleased for her. Mark had seen the way that she had leant on Ron, had gained strength from his just being there. He hoped that the six months would turn into something permanent and she would get the happiness and stability in her life that she deserved.

"I'm really pleased for you, Sweetie. Maybe we could have a meal here to welcome him. Just barbeque from Bob's. It would be nice to relax for a while."

Now the smile on Amanda's face was broad. "That would be just great. Thank you." She leant over and kissed him, knowing that although they weren't earth shattering, they were plans; plans for the future and they were worth celebrating too.

ooo

"Lieutenant, there is no disgrace in feeling vulnerable. Considering what happened to you, I would be far more concerned and surprised if you didn't feel that way."

Steve couldn't meet the other man's eyes. The telling of his story had been hard, far harder than he had expected, and so far they were still on the first day, the day when he had been taken, bound and finally gagged before being driven through the burning heat to God knew where.

"But I'm a cop. I let my guard down …" He paused a moment, raising his voice caused his chest to hurt but it was difficult not to shout right now. "She took me without a fight."

"Because you didn't want your father to find you dead in your apartment. You've explained that. It seems a very logical reason to me. By the time you got to your destination you were exhausted, disoriented, and suffering from thirst and hunger." James stopped talking. He didn't want to give his opinions; he wanted the man in front of him to do that. But he had already learnt that he had to open the doors and then hope that Steve Sloan would go through them. None of this was going to be easy, for either of them.

"I thought the journey would never end." Steve paused and closed his eyes and as he did so he was back in a place he now knew to be Beatty, Nevada.

"_Get out of the truck, Lieutenant." The voice had startled him after the silence of the past hours. He felt hands on his upper arms and then he was hauled unceremoniously out of the area between the two sets of seats where he had spent what seemed like an eternity._

_There were two houses across the street from where he was standing on legs which were protesting strongly and he looked towards them desperately trying to see any signs of life._

_"Don't even think about it – they're vacation rentals, but it's so hot here that they're empty right now. The agent told me that it's another two weeks before he has anyone booked for either of them."_

_Her words, triumphantly thrown at him, had made his heart fall a little further. There were no other buildings of any type that he could see, but his muscles were so stiff, so set into untenable positions, that he had very little view of anything._

_The muzzle of the gun was forced against the back of his neck again, his gun, the woman, Melosa, she had said her name was, had tossed her own weapon into the glove box of his truck saying that his was far nicer and that she would use that from now on._

_"Get in the house." He had staggered as she pushed him towards the building and he had heard the gun being cocked in readiness to blow his brains out._

_The instant coolness had been so welcome that he had wondered why he had fought coming inside. He watched as she took his ID and his cell phone and carefully put them in the cabinet underneath the television and he had realised that her attention was diverted. He backed away making his way towards the door he had just entered through, but as he got to it, as his hands grasped the handle, she turned._

_"What the hell do you think you're doing?" She had looked first at him and then at a door almost opposite where he was now standing. "I would make for that part of the house if I was you." _

"And did you?" James Barrington had seen the indecision in Steve's eyes and, not wanting him to stop talking, had asked the question hoping it would spur him on.

"Oh yeah. I may be a grown man and a cop but there was no way I was gonna let this woman send me back to my dad in a box." Steve paused for a moment and then carried on.

"I made my way across the room, looking around all the time, trying to see if there was any way to escape. There wasn't. When we got to the second door she pressed the gun against my head again and then unlocked the cuffs." Steve stopped speaking and looked up into the eyes of his therapist who saw confusion there.

"What happened then?" James asked the question softly, wondering if the man in front of him actually knew.

"She … she opened the door, I remember that but she must have hit me or something … because the next thing I remember I was in chains." He began to shake; the memory of being manacled to the wall was too much to think about. A heaving gasp escaped him and Steve dropped his head into his hands, unable to carry on any further.

ooo

Phone calls had been made, times and dates agreed upon and Mark had something to look forward to. That had been part of the problem he decided, he'd had nothing planned, nothing but endless days at home recuperating from something that he didn't understand and didn't want to think about. But now he had friends coming, just like they usually did, they would come in two days time, with food and they could sit and relax, talk about things which didn't bring him out in a cold sweat.

Also though, he knew if they did stray into difficult areas that, between the five of them, they would be able to handle it far better than any therapist could. With a smile he looked over at Amanda and wondered at her resilience. She was beautiful, graceful and she worked with dead people. He knew he was stereotyping, but she had misled many people over the years, not the least of them Ron Wagner. But Mark knew they were perfect for each other and he also wondered where he himself would be without her. He hoped he would never have to find out.

ooo

The phone call to say that his cab was waiting had come while Steve had still been composing himself ready to finish his session. That had been done in a friendly manner. He was embarrassed by what he saw as a show of weakness, but also reassured by the feelings of release that were already making themselves apparent.

To his own amazement Steve had arranged for an appointment the following day and another one the day after that. He had then left the doctor and made his way very slowly towards the elevator.

It had been empty when it arrived on his floor and, grateful for the lack of an audience, Steve had slumped against the back wall and tried to compose himself before his journey back to Malibu. His feet were throbbing and sore, and he knew that when he got home he would need to treat them carefully, he wasn't a sandals man, but right now they were all he could stand to have on his feet, other than fluffy slippers. Jesse had brought him a pair of pink pigs, which he had gleefully unwrapped for him and put on over his bandages, while he was still in the hospital. He had thanked him for them and vowed to lose them at the earliest opportunity but they were still at home and he was looking forward to putting them on as soon as he could.

The elevator slowed for his floor and Steve took as deep a breath as he could manage to ready his body for one of its final assaults of the day. The doors opened and he thought his heart would stop. For just a moment he stood, face to face with Melosa Arriaga.


	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

He couldn't breathe, and the elevator car wasn't big enough to hold him. He needed to get away, but to do that he had to pass her. His hands clenched and the pain radiated up through his shoulders. His chest constricted and ribs screamed in agony. His vision blurred and then, as his legs gave way underneath him, he fell to the floor unable to keep his grip on reality any longer.

ooo

"I just … I … I wanted to get in the elevator … I didn't mean to upset him." The young woman, who had only come in to visit with her grandfather, sat in an exam room in the ER trying to control her emotions.

"I know, and he'll be really sorry he reacted that way to you." Amanda paused for a moment and then spoke again. "He's a very kind man; he wouldn't have meant to upset you. It's just that you reminded him of someone he would rather forget." Amanda had talked to one of the nurses who had attended to Steve before Jesse got to him. She knew that apart from one word he had said nothing, but that one word had been all she'd needed. The nurse, looking confused, had told her that he had held her hand so tightly she thought it might break and said 'Melosa'.

"Ok. Tell him that I'm sorry too. I … I have to go or my grandpa will be worrying about me." She slid off the exam table that she had been sitting on, smoothed down her t-shirt and, with a watery smile in Amanda's direction, left the room.

"Lieutenant, Lieutenant Sloan, can you hear me? It's Doctor Barrington." James looked from his patient across to Doctor Travis who was standing just a little bit out of the way his eyes locked on the face of his friend.

"How long has he been like this?" The therapist was concerned that there seemed to be no response whatsoever from the man who had been found collapsed in an elevator and rushed to the ER. Steve was lying, eyes closed and unresponsive, although both men knew that he was conscious.

Jesse looked up and checked the clock on the wall. "Ten minutes, the woman who caused the reaction got a nurse and he was brought here right away." Taking a few steps Jesse moved so that he could reach out and touch his friend. He then glanced at the doctor next to him and saw him nod.

"Steve, Buddy, it's Jess. You're safe, nothing can hurt you here. Do you understand me? You're safe?" As he finished speaking Jesse saw a change in his friend, he suddenly took an anxious breath in, the pain it caused flashed across his features, his eyes flew open and then he began to shake.

"Shhh. It's ok." Jesse's voice lowered and he placed a hand on Steve's arm. "Doctor Barrington is here too. Just relax."

The mention of another name caused Steve to shrink back a little, but Jesse knew that he would need to know that it wasn't just the two of them.

"Lieutenant, I have cleared my schedule for the next hour or so. When you are feeling a little better I think we need to speak again." The tall man got to his feet and carefully placed the chair he had been sitting on back where it belonged. "Doctor Travis, if you could have someone call my office when you think your patient is able to talk with me I would be grateful. Until then I will get back and do as I said I had and clear my appointments." He smiled in the general direction of both men and then strode from the room.

Jesse watched him go for a moment and then turned back to where his friend was lying. Steve's eyes were still open and Jesse could see the pain there. The shaking was quite apparent and so Jesse gently touched Steve as he began to talk.

"Hey, speak to me, tell me what happened. Then I'll get you admitted for the night." Jesse had spoken to the same nurse as Amanda and so he had a fair idea of what had caused the panic attack. He knew however, that Steve needed to tell someone what he remembered and he was happy for it to be him.

"Saw her … again … not again." Steve closed his eyes for a moment and then latched on to what else Jesse had said. "No … home, Jess, I want to go home." The voice was faint, but it was a voice and Jesse smiled.

"I know you do, and you can, in the morning. Steve, something made you collapse in an elevator. I need to run some tests, make sure that you didn't hurt yourself in the process."

"I … didn't." Steve tried to move to a sitting position but pain caused him to stop where he was. "At least I don't think I did."

"Where, does it hurt more somewhere than it did before?" Jesse was instantly concerned, moving Steve's shirt so that he could feel around his tender rib area. His face became a picture of total concentration and Steve, watching him intently, began to relax as he had been instructed. This was normal life, he wasn't in any danger here, Jesse was right and Doctor Barrington, he would need to see Doctor Barrington again. He couldn't carry on like this.

ooo

"What do you mean you're keeping him in overnight? If he's ill you should have called me, Jesse." Mark's voice, although still weakened from his own brush with death was forceful enough for Jesse to feel guilty.

"I'm sorry, but I have called you now. I had to treat him first. Mark, it's just a precaution. You don't need to come in or anything. I have no doubt I'll be releasing him in the morning."

"No, no I won't come in. Thank you, Jess." The phone was dead in his hand and instead of feeling that he had reassured his friend Jesse was suddenly desperately worried about him instead.

He moved across towards the coffee maker in the doctors' lounge, glancing at his watch as he did so. There was twenty minutes of his shift left; he had planned to go surfing in Malibu anyway, so if he combined a house visit he could leave right away. Ignoring the hot drink he had been going to make for himself Jesse walked down the hallway, called the elevator and made his way to Steve's room.

ooo

"He was so scared. Whatever did you do to the man?" the voice that had last been heard trying to stop sobs in an examination room was now confident and relaxed as it's owner spoke into a cell phone.

"That's not important. It's a shame you had to speak with that woman, but you did your job well. There will be payment in your account by the end of the week. I suggest that you lose this number I won't be needing you again." The click told her that the call was over. She might be desperate for money but she wasn't stupid. The number was insurance and, as everyone had seemed so concerned about the man who had collapsed, she had a feeling that there was more to this than she had been told. For the time being at least she would keep the number somewhere safe.

ooo

The nurse on duty at the station on the floor where Steve was spending his enforced night's stay told Jesse that Doctor Barrington had arrived a little over ten minutes earlier. He left a message to let Steve know that his dad had been told where he was before signing himself out of the hospital knowing that he wasn't going to enjoy the next hour or so.

ooo

"I don't want to worry you, Lieutenant, but your response was a little alarming." James Barrington was sitting in a not too comfortable chair watching every inch of his patient's face. So far the time spent together had been almost totally silent apart from the sound of his own voice, and he wasn't confident that it would alter any time soon.

Gradually though, as the minutes ticked by, the doctor began to see a change in the man he already knew would be a challenge to him and his skills as a psychologist.

"I don't need to see you." Steve turned his head to face away from the tall and imposing man sitting next to his bed.

"Ok. So every time you see a woman with long black hair you're going to have a panic attack and then carry on with your life?"

"If necessary." The memory of a woman walking across the sand in front of his house flashed through Steve's mind and again he felt the tightness in his chest, but he tried to ignore it. The feelings of vulnerability, which had been alien to him, were becoming far too common, and suddenly he blamed them all on the man sitting beside his bed. "I didn't ask you to come. Please go."

The counsellor didn't want to leave his patient alone and so for a minute or two longer he stayed where he was. Eventually though it became clear that there would be no conversation and his time could be better spent elsewhere. Keeping a relatively tight rein on his frustrations James Barrington broke the silence.

"Fine. I'll see you around, Lieutenant." He got to his feet, carefully returned the chair, as he always did, and began shrugging himself into his suit jacket. He took one more look in the direction of the bed but could see a battle was being waged that, as yet, he had no part in.

"You have a ten o'clock appointment tomorrow, Lieutenant. I hope I will see you then." There was no reply, so he left the room and closed the door behind him.

The privacy was immediately welcomed and overwhelming. Steve lay back against his pillow and tried to picture the woman he had seen outside the elevator. She was a total stranger; there was no reason for her to cause any reaction in him. She had just been a hospital visitor and had nothing to do with Melosa Arriaga. As he let the name of his recent captor into his mind his heart rate began to increase and his breath started coming in small painful gasps. Although he tried to control himself his palms began to sweat and his vision blurred. Suddenly the alarm on the machine next to him began to beep and a nurse rushed into the room.

"Mr Sloan … Steve, can you hear me?" the young woman turned as she heard another person enter the room. "Whoever's on duty get them up here, STAT."

ooo

The beach house somehow looked a little unloved, as if those who lived there hadn't cared for it recently, but Jesse wasn't sure if that was just due to his over fertile imagination. He let himself in with the key that Mark had given him when he and Steve were first released from the hospital and called out as he did so.

"Mark, it's me, Jesse. Can I come in?" He waited just inside the door listening for the reply, not wanting to intrude but needing to see his friend.

"Sure." The one word was another worry. Mark was always so vocal, so friendly. Jesse closed the door behind him, pocketed the key and made his way into the main living area. He could see that Mark had the screen for the projector up against the wall and was watching a slightly jumping and grainy film.

"Is that Steve?" Jesse watched fascinated as two figures, one of them obviously Mark in his youth, played a game of cowboy.

"Yes it is. If he'd died this would be all I'd have left." The film stopped suddenly and the room seemed darker, not just physically but mentally too.

Jesse made his way past the projector and sat carefully next to his friend who, he knew, was still feeling very fragile. "But he didn't and neither did you. Don't you think that he feels that way as well?"

"That's different, Jess. I'm supposed to die before he does."

"Yes, you are, but not in the way that you nearly did. Mark, I'm worried about you, and I know that if he realised you were this way Steve would be too."

"Don't you tell him, Jesse. This comes under doctor-patient confidentiality." Mark's voice rose as he spoke and Jesse hurriedly shook his head to appease him.

"Of course I won't, but you can't keep a cheerful face on for when he's here and then sink into despair every time he leaves the room or the house. It's not good for you and it's not good for him either."

"Then sign me fit for work and leave me alone. It's having time to brood that is doing this to me."

"Oh no. Don't pass the blame along." Jesse paused; he didn't want to be harsh and so he softened his tone a little. "Mark, you need to talk this through with someone. Steve spoke to James Barrington and he seems really nice." Jesse saw Mark start to speak and hurried to carry on talking. "I'm not suggesting that you see him too, but he might be able to recommend someone."

"I'll think about it. Now tell me about Steve."

Jesse breathed a sigh of relief. Although he hadn't said anything he had been surprised that Mark hadn't asked about his son as soon as he'd come in through the door.

"He had a panic attack. At least I think that's what it was. His heart was racing, he was non-responsive, clammy palms and he was shaking."

"Why? I thought you said that Barrington was a good therapist."

"I did and he didn't cause it. From what I understand Steve saw a woman waiting to get into his elevator. She was tall and slim and she had long black hair."

"Melosa." The one word came out as a whisper and Mark just stared ahead at nothing in particular but Jesse saw that his hands were held in tight fists.

"Yeah, but it wasn't her, just a girl coming to visit her grandfather. I kept him in overnight to be on the safe side, but I'm worried about him, Mark, just as I'm worried about you."

"Well don't. I can't be doing with it. The day after tomorrow I'm having a welcome party for Ron. He's coming for a six month secondment to the LA field office. That will be a new start for all of us. This will be over. I'll tell Steve when he comes home … this will all be over."

Jesse was about to reply when his pager began to beep on his belt. He looked at the message and got to his feet. "Can I use your phone?" Mark just nodded and so he made his way over and picked up the receiver.

"This is Doctor Travis … when …? Ok, I'm on my way back." Jesse put the phone down with a heavy heart and moved towards his friend. "Mark, Steve had another attack, I need to go. Do you want to come? I could get a second bed put in his room you could stay there tonight. Get a good night's sleep."

Finally Mark turned and smiled, "Thank you, Jess, but no thank you. Give Steve my love. Tell him I'll see him tomorrow." Mark looked away, pressed a button on the machine next to him and the cowboy film came to life again as, with even more worries weighing him down, Jesse left the house.

ooo

The journey back had seemed to take forever. Jesse had watched every light turn to red just as he got to it, and his mind had wandered back over things as he waited, not that patiently, for his turn to move.

The thing that worried him more than anything, he realised, was the fact that obviously neither Steve nor Mark had spoken to each other about their problems. Jesse knew that Steve had no idea how Mark was suffering, how he was gradually sinking into a depression which quite possibly only his son could get him out of.

Steve was slightly different in that he had decided to talk to James Barrington, but again Jesse knew that there had been no conversation between father and son, even though Steve had kept Mark awake on numerous occasions with nightmares.

Finally the entrance way to Community General was the next turn and Jesse drove in, found his usual parking space and then, with a feeling of despondency dogging his every step, made his way up to the room where his friend was staying.

ooo

The note had taken very little time to write. She supposed that when you were totally in tune with what you had to do it was easy to put the words in the right order. The photo was one of her favourites, and she looked at it again before sliding it into the envelope.

The handsome features of the cop were distorted in pain and she revelled in the fact that it was she who had made him look that way. The riding crop had been a sad loss, left at the house and probably in the hands of the Nevada police department now, but it hadn't taken her long to find another one just as strong and straight. The new one had braided leather along its length. The force she had used to break the skin on his back wouldn't be needed with this one. It would brand him just as surely as if she still had her old favourite. Carefully she caressed its surface before laying it back down on the desk beside her.

Slowly she read through the rough copy of her note once more before picking up the red pen and beginning to write.

_You only get one chance to make a first impression. That's what they say isn't it, Doctor Sloan?_

_I think I made a lasting impression on your son; did I do the same for you I wonder? _

_Show him this picture; it will remind him what I have in store for him the next time I'm in town._

_Have a nice day._

_Melosa Arriaga_

She knew that she shouldn't really sign the letter, but they would know anyway who it was from so it didn't matter. Besides she wanted to see what type of response she got.

Hopefully she wouldn't have to wait very long.


	3. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

The silence which greeted Jesse as he entered Steve's room told him that either the panic had passed or his friend was asleep. He hoped that it was a combination of the two. To his surprise Amanda was sitting at Steve's bedside, his hand held gently in her own.

"Hi." She smiled slightly and rose to her feet. "Let's go outside." She walked quickly into the hallway and pulled Steve's door to behind her. It wasn't closed though and both friends could still see the sleeping form on the bed.

"What happened?" Jesse had a rough idea but when he'd left Steve had been in the company of James Barrington, sullen and unresponsive, but not showing any recognised symptoms of panic.

"Apparently he dismissed his therapist and then suffered a panic attack. He just told me that he was fine and wanted to sleep. But that's twice in one day, Jess, what are we going to do? Mark is no better, I'm so worried about both of them, and that woman, even though she isn't around, she's still hurting them." The anger and pain was apparent in Amanda's eyes and Jesse put an arm around her.

"I know, but she won't beat us, any of us. And Mark and Steve will recover; it'll just take a little time." He paused for a moment and then a smile settled on his lips. "What is this I hear about a celebratory meal for a certain FBI Agent?"

The words did the trick and Amanda was immediately smiling with him. The anger was replaced by an excitement and anticipation which made Jesse's heart lighten just for a while.

ooo

He could hear them talking, they were only in the hallway and their voices floated in to his room in a friendly, soothing kind of way. The words made no sense, they were just outside his auditory reach, but the sounds of those voices, which were more familiar to him than even his own, calmed him enormously.

He needed to feel that way, his mind and his body were not responding and he wasn't used to that. He'd been helpless before, but his mind had belonged to him, not to someone else. He had spent an agonizing amount of time in the ICU when his dad was on death row, but he hadn't panicked, had calmly dealt with everything that was presented to him and it had turned out fine in the end. Why wasn't that happening this time?

He tried again to bring the face of his nemesis up in front of his eyes, but the panic was too close to the surface and he pushed her away. He had to work out the best strategy for getting past his fear so that he could find her and put her where she belonged – behind bars – where she would never be able to threaten his father again.

A deep sigh escaped him, causing a sharp reminder of his broken ribs, as he realised that sending James Barrington away had only delayed the continuation of a recovery he needed to make in double quick time.

"Jess." The one word caused the conversation in the hallway to cease and his two friends, as he had known they would, rushed to his bedside.

"Steve, it's ok, Buddy." Jesse began to immediately check Steve's vital signs, and was relieved to see the heart monitor next to him displaying figures which were well within the safety margins he would need to sign his discharge papers.

"I'm … I'm sorry." The words hurt a little as he spoke and Steve knew that collapsing in an elevator together with two panic attacks had made his tender ribs even sorer than they had been.

"Don't worry. Everything is back as it should be now." He paused but then, noticing something on the machine, spoke again, "You had a little blip a minute or so ago, what caused that?" Jesse looked at the read out and was concerned by what he saw.

"Melosa." The one word again was all any of them needed. Even the mention of the name caused the monitor's figures to race and Jesse took Steve's hand into his own.

"Forget her. Put her out of your mind," Jesse saw Amanda begin to smooth Steve's hair back from his face, speaking softly of nothing in particular as she did so, and gradually her ministrations began to work their magic.

"Steve," Jesse spoke quietly not wanting to agitate his friend, "have a snooze and I'll arrange for meatloaf to be delivered at six sharp. Then you can spend the night and I'll let you go home, ok?"

"Ok. Thanks, Jess, 'Manda." The first tendrils of sleep were already snaking their way around his conscious mind, blurring the edges and, knowing that he could have roughly three hours of uninterrupted rest; Steve didn't even try to argue, but instead just let himself float away.

ooo

The stack of plates which Mark had put to heat ready for the small party had been heavier that he thought and he rested his hands against the kitchen counter as he caught his breath. Never again would he underestimate the pain a patient was suffering after a rib injury … Never again, the words stuck in his brain, he had almost been in a position where he never again saw his son, his friends and what remained of his family. He should have backed off, let Ron and Jesse … the thought hung unfinished, who was he kidding? His son had been kidnapped, tortured and left to die in the desert and still he hadn't been able to let go, to leave well alone. He was a silly old fool who should know better; should know when to quit.

He turned from the counter to try to move away from his thoughts and feelings and his hand caught a glass resting next to him. It flew away towards the floor smashing into a thousand sharp shards.

"Dad?" His son must have been just outside the room, his voice suddenly loud and concerned.

"It's just a glass, I'll deal with it."

"Let me help," Steve came towards him and Mark fired up.

"I said I'll deal with it! I am not totally helpless!"

"I didn't mean to imply you were. Dad? Are you ok?" For the first time Steve looked closely at Mark. Finally, after a night in the hospital and three sessions over two days with James Barrington, he felt he was making some progress and the rest of the world was settling back into place around him. The guilt that was now producing was all for his father.

"Yes, I'm ok. Everything is just dandy." A spasm of pain in his chest caused Mark to catch his breath and he was silent for a few seconds allowing Steve to jump into the fraught conversation.

"I'm gonna cancel this. It's too soon for us to be holding a party."

"No! It has to be now. Has to be … it's a new start. We need a new start."

Steve wasn't sure what he saw in his father's eyes, or heard in his voice, but he knew that to argue would be counter productive and maybe even dangerous so he nodded his head and, knowing that any assistance he offered would be refused, made his way slowly back the way he had come.

ooo

Jesse carefully put the shaver back in the bathroom cabinet. If he didn't position it just so everything else fell out. Of course, it would make more sense to clear the entire thing and start over, but he only remembered that when he slid the door across and saw the beginnings of a small pharmaceutical avalanche.

Once the doors were closed he looked at himself in the mirrored fronts and sighed. His hair was still sticking up, it didn't matter what he did with it there were always bits which got away. He stared into his own blue eyes and wondered for a moment what other people saw. Some people, he knew, saw a young man, younger than he actually was, they saw an enthusiastic clown, and they didn't see the real him.

The last month had proved to Jesse that he could certainly handle himself in a crisis. There had been other crises too which he had coped with, but this one, this one had been without Steve. Been without the rock which usually anchored his slightly bouncy world in one place, but he had coped and survived intact, and now it was up to him to make sure that his three best friends did the same. Steve and Mark both still worried him, Steve not so much as he had a couple of days ago. James Barrington had finally broken through the Sloan reserve and they were even calling each other by their first names. It would take a while but Jesse knew that Steve had begun to take the initial steps to a recovery which he had every hope would be a complete one.

Mark though was still causing him grave concern. He desperately wanted to discuss the elder doctor with someone, preferably Steve. But not only was there doctor – patient confidentiality to take into account, but also the fact that the complete recovery he had just been contemplating could be jeopardised if Steve realised how much his father was suffering.

Jesse planned to take his boss and friend aside after the meal this evening and try once again to get through to him that he needed to share his pain with someone. But he wasn't hopeful of any great amount of success.

With a sigh he made his way into the bedroom and plonked himself down on the bed. He still had at least an hour before he had to leave for Malibu and he hadn't had a lot of sleep over the last few days. As he lay back and closed his eyes his last conscious thoughts were of Amanda and how she was coping.

ooo

Her dress was laid out on the bed, shoes underneath it on the carpet and her make up was done. Amanda looked at herself in the glass of her dressing table mirror and tried to ignore the deep circles which could still be seen underneath her eyes.

No one had said very much about them but her staff had definitely been carrying her this past week and although she appreciated it greatly it also infuriated her that it had been necessary.

Her mind made its way to the previous morning when finally the wall she had built around herself in the waiting room of the hospital in Nevada came down. She hadn't told Ron about it, but she would, when the time was right she would share, because if she didn't then she had a feeling that the emotions would never ever quite leave her.

_The body had been waiting for her when she arrived for work. A twenty-eight year old Caucasian male who had been found bound and gagged by a roadside a little after eleven the previous evening._

_She hadn't been called to the scene, and so was interested to see what secrets the John Doe was trying to keep from her. She had worked her way down the body noting various injuries which, to her mind, were in keeping with a severe beating that had eventually resulted in death. It was when she turned the man over that the earth had shifted and she had thought she would pass out._

_Her assistant had rushed to her aid, sat her down behind her desk and put a call through to Jesse. Maybe she had actually lost consciousness because he seemed to be there in an instant and the next thing she really knew she was in an exam room a blood pressure cuff on her arm and a worried doctor at her shoulder._

_"Jess?"___

_"Shhh, don't talk for a little while, just gather yourself back together first." She had felt his soft fingers warm across her wrist as he took her pulse, closed her eyes and done as she was told._

_"Now, do you want to tell me what happened?" Jesse had finally allowed her to sit up and she was anxious to get back to work. _

_The question had confused her for a few moments but then the memory had rushed back at her and she'd gasped, covering her mouth with her hand as tears filled her eyes._

_"The whip."___

_"What?" Even the one word had been spoken in a gentle and caring way and Amanda had been so glad that it was Jesse who was sitting listening to her. No one else would understand what she was about to say._

_"I … I had a body, he'd been beaten, kicked, punched and when I turned him over …" She closed her eyes for a second but knew that she would continue. "His back was covered with marks from a whip."_

_Jesse had said nothing, just taken her into his arms and she had let the emotions out which had been hiding beneath the surface since she had realised that Steve had been attacked with a riding crop._

_"He … he must have suf … suffered so m … much." The tears soaked into Jesse's shirt but still he had held her, whispering soft words of encouragement, and eventually she had been able to pull away and look him in the eye._

_"What would we have done if she'd succeeded? She came so close." The question which had been haunting her finally came out and she looked to her friend to provide the answer she was seeking._

_"I know she did, but the gods were on our side. The good guys won, and even though it'll take some time we will get back as close as possible to where we were before this happened."_

_Somehow his words, similar to those she had been trying to use to persuade herself of a safe and secure future, began to calm her racing heart and brain. She had held him tight as his confidence and certainty permeated her soul and when she had left his side to return to her work the seeds of hope had already found a fertile place to begin their new growth._

ooo

****

Steve sat on the sofa and looked at the scene before him. It was so obviously false that he felt as if he was watching a play. Jesse was the only one of them who seemed to be acting the way he normally did. The plate he held in his hand was full to overflowing with ribs, salad and fries and he was investigating the possibility of putting a serving of coleslaw on there too.

Ron and Amanda seemed embarrassed to even be at the beach house. They had plates with food on but nothing was being eaten and they were talking quietly to each other, occasionally glancing over at his father, worried expressions on both their faces.

He too was spending most of his time watching his dad. Mark had been the epitome of the genial host, almost, but not quite, his normal self and Steve had a feeling that the act would have fooled anyone who didn't know him well. They all did know him well though and none of them had been taken in for a moment.

Ever since he had heard the glass break Steve had been thinking and he knew that once everyone left he would make sure that he got his father to sit down and actually talk to him.

How could he have been so narrow minded, so self centred, so totally absorbed in his own problems to the exclusion of everything else which was going on? He knew he was a selfish man; the fact that he was still a cop when his dad would rather he be anything else was testimony to that fact, but to ignore so many things which were right under his own nose? He hadn't thought he had that in him.

As Steve watched his father make a slow and painful, at least to watch, journey towards the table a pager began to go off. He automatically felt for his only to realise that he wouldn't be being contacted for at least another month if not longer. Jesse ignored the noise but Ron pulled a face and Steve had known that the party was effectively over.

The tall FBI agent made his way closer to his host and placed a regretful hand on his shoulder.

"Mark, I have to go. Thank you for the welcome. I know I'll see you soon."

"Already? But the night is young." Mark wondered what it was that had called the man away, his interest flaring momentarily but then it was gone.

"It won't be by the time I'm done. We came in separate cars so Amanda will stay a little longer. Steve, I'll see you too." He nodded in the direction of the one man he counted as a true friend, and then reconsidered; Jesse was tucking into his meal at the table and Ron realised that he too was someone he knew he could call on in an emergency. It was a reassuring feeling.

ooo

As he knew it would the party had broken up after Ron left. Jesse had made himself up a considerable sized doggie bag and then, with mumblings about advice needed on a patient, had carefully directed Mark to a quiet corner where he could be seen talking in earnest with him.

Amanda had sat quietly with Steve for a few minutes, he had looked deep into her eyes and been concerned by what he saw.

"What's wrong?"

"Not as much as there was."

He wasn't sure how to reply to the cryptic response and so, like the good cop he was, Steve waited.

"I had a case yesterday …" She looked away, felt his finger as it rested underneath her chin and gently pushed her face up so that she was unable to avoid his blue-eyed gaze.

"And?"

"And he had been beaten with a whip." The sharp intake of breath had hurt and surprised him.

"I'm sorry, I won't say any more."

"You don't have to. She whipped me, with a riding crop that split the skin. The scars will always be there, I have no way to get away from that … but you do. Honey, you can't let what happened to me affect you and the way you do your job. You're the best there is, in my opinion, and I need to know that you're there working my cases, and there will be more cases, because she won't beat me, or you either."

The words had gotten stronger the longer he spoke and Steve found himself growing in strength with them. He had again lifted her face towards him and planted a soft and gentle kiss on her forehead. "She won't beat us because together we are stronger than she will ever be and if we talk these things through then they won't take us over."

"I know and I have, talked about this I mean, it's not easy, I've cried over it too, but your dad … Steve." She couldn't continue, her own problems fading into insignificance as she thought about Mark and the pain she saw haunting his eyes.

"I know, I didn't, but I do now. Don't worry, just be there, in the background, because I know I'm gonna need you and Jesse to help me. Let me start it but he's hurting so much and I'm not enough on my own…" Steve trailed off; there weren't words to convey his worry and concerns.

"We'll be here, just as you are for us." This time it was Amanda who kissed Steve on the cheek and then she got to her feet. "But first of all I have to be there for my mother and relieve her of her babysitting duties. I'll call by tomorrow. No, don't get up. I know my way out."

"I should hope so. Bye, Amanda." He watched her go with a feeling of satisfaction inside of him. Following on from what he and James had talked about over the last couple of days he was relieved that she had broken down and let some of her feelings out. The fact that she had been able to tell him about it as well was a good sign and he knew that he didn't need to worry about her, well, not any more than he usually did at any rate.

As the seat beside him was vacated, Steve watched his other friend come and fill it. He looked past him to see Amanda kiss Mark on the cheek, get very little response and then with a heavy sigh pick up her purse and make her way out of the house.

"Steve, how're you feeling?"

"Better. You were right, James Barrington is a good guy … thanks."

"Hey, all part of the service. Did Amanda …?" Jesse trailed off but Steve knew instantly that Amanda had already told his friend about what had happened to her.

"Yeah, she did. But I think she'll be alright, y'know?"

"Oh, three visits with a shrink and he's an expert!"

"I thought it was you who'd visited a shrink – didn't you use to be six foot eight?"

"Oh, funny guy!" Jesse shook his head but inside he was cheering for all he was worth. The banter, which he hadn't realised how much he'd missed, had returned. He wasn't naïve enough to think that Steve was back to normal, that couldn't be, not yet, but he was taking steps, far bigger steps than his dad.

"Steve, I have to go. I spoke to your dad …"

"And got nowhere, I'll bet. And I thought I was stubborn. Jess, I'll speak to him, but I don't want to upset him, or make him feel worse than he's obviously feeling right now. How do I do that?"

For a moment Jesse thought and then with a sigh began to speak. "I don't know that you can. I have no way of telling you any of what we've talked about, but what I can say is that none of it has been of consequence."

"Ok. Thanks. Look, you go, Jesse, I'll talk to him, if I need you, or Amanda, I'll call. And, Jess?" Steve suddenly realised that there was something else he had to say.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks, you saved his life and mine. I should have said something."

"Goes with the white coat and the stethoscope, but trust me it was my pleasure, and the hospital in Nevada had a lot to do with both of you still being here. I'll see you tomorrow, Buddy."

Steve acknowledged Jesse with a raise of his left hand and then again he watched as a friend gathered up his belongings, this time including the large doggie bag, and left him and his father alone.

ooo

The conversation had been stilted and far more difficult than even Steve had imagined. For over an hour the words had been monosyllabic and Mark, usually so upbeat, so confident, so verbose, had been unable to even look his son in the eye. Steve had bit back on the words of anger which fought for freedom, knowing that the situation was his fault and ultimately only he could reach his father. He also knew that shouting would have the totally opposite effect to that which he desired and so he had kept his voice soft and low, as if speaking to a child, but still nothing was getting through.

"Dad, please, look at me. I want to help you, just as you have always helped me in the past."

"Have I? How can you sit there in obvious pain and say that?" It was the longest sentence he'd uttered since Jesse had left.

"What? Of course I can say that. I wouldn't be where I am today if it weren't for you. I've always known that."

"No, you wouldn't. You wouldn't have been chained to a wall, you wouldn't have been beaten to within an inch of your life, you wouldn't have been left in the desert to die and you wouldn't have been set upon by dogs." Mark paused for a second to take a breath. "Oh, you are so right, without me you certainly wouldn't be where you are today." The torrent of words stopped as abruptly as it had started, but finally Steve realised what the problem was. He saw the usually loving eyes in front of him full of pain and tears and his own throat constricted but he fought past it and spoke.

"You think this is your fault?"

"No, I don't think it, I know it. _'This is what happens when you play detective. The law isn't for amateurs; it is the professionals who suffer.' _That's what she said and she was right."

"Dad, I know I suffered, and so did you, but not because of anything either of us had done. The woman is a fruit loop but I will **not** let her turn you away from what you do best."

"She doesn't have to. I'm done. No more. I'll resign from my post as consultant to the police department, give the board at Community General six months to find a successor as Head of Internal Medicine and then do what I should have done years ago and retire gracefully." Mark was the most animated he had been for a while but as the words finished he seemed to fold back in on himself.

The shock which he felt prevented Steve from answering right away and as he paused a noise was heard in the silence as a hand knocked on the front door.

"I'll get it." He cursed the timing of the visitor wishing he could ignore the sound, but knowing that he had to answer it. He saw the face of a woman peering through the glass, a stranger, not known to him and he undid the catch but kept his foot against the door opening it only slightly.

"You are, Mr Sloan?" The accent wasn't American; at a guess he would have said maybe Russian. "Mr Mark Sloan?"

"No, that's my dad."

"But he is here?" She saw Steve nod and continued. "This is for you. You pay me, da?"

Steve had already seen that she had a courier's badge on her lapel and he fished about in his pocket for his wallet. "How much?"

"Ten dollars, plus tip." She smiled and Steve sincerely hoped that she would spend some of her money on toothpaste.

"Fifteen, thank you." He took the package through the narrow opening, signed his name on her address sheet and then watched as the courier ran down the steps before he closed the door. For a minute or two he stood facing the stairs to his own apartment, the implications of his father's words permeating his brain, and then, just as he shook himself back to reality, the doorbell rang again causing him to almost jump out of his skin. He turned back towards it and smiled as he saw Cheryl waiting to be let in.

"What's that?" Her voice was sharp and Steve felt his heart begin to beat wildly.

"Just … just a package. It's for dad why?"

"Don't touch it any more than you already have, and certainly don't open it."

"Cheryl, Jesse, where did you come from … what is it?" He hadn't seen his best friend arrive, but he was now standing with his partner and the anxiety on both their faces scared him. The blood was rushing through his ears and although he didn't want to know what was wrong he had to ask.

"We just got a report that Amanda's car was located on the side of PCH, the engine was still running, but she is nowhere to be found."


	4. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

Amanda looked up into the eyes of her captor and tried to hold her gaze. Maybe that way the woman wouldn't realise how terrified she was.

"So, you are Amanda Bentley. One of Mark Sloan's little group of crime fighters. And, if I have been doing my research correctly, which I assure you I have; you are involved with the man who killed my babies." The hand of the other woman swept round, slapping her hard across the face and, unable to save herself, Amanda crashed to the floor her cheek instantly on fire.

"Oh, for goodness sake, you're as weak as he was." Melosa grabbed a handful of hair and pulled the woman in front of her back to an upright position. She was on her knees with her hands in cuffs behind her back. Just the way Melosa preferred all her acquaintances to be.

"You know you really should have a password on your cell phone. But thankfully you don't and this time I can call your friends and let them know what has happened to you."

The fear in Amanda increased even more as Melosa leant over and ran one long red fingernail down the side of her face, gently enough to make her shiver.

ooo

"Detective Banks, I really don't care if you have been put in charge of the investigation by the President himself, this is a kidnapping, that is a federal crime and I am taking over." Ron had been called back from the case he was working only to find that his love had been taken from him by a woman who he knew was capable of almost anything.

"And I will tell you what I would tell any of the homicide detectives under my command, which is most of them while Steve is on sick leave; you are too close to this case, Agent, so back off and let me do my job." Cheryl squared up to Ron Wagner, knowing that if she showed any weakness at all her position would be irrevocably weakened.

"If your people had been on the ball, they would have realised this woman would be coming back and stopped her before she got to Amanda and we wouldn't be in this position now." Ron spat the words back at the smaller woman in front of him and glared at her.

"Stop it; stop it, both of you! This isn't getting us anywhere." The voice belonged to Mark and as he spoke everyone turned to look at him.

"Dad's right. Besides, we don't know that Amanda has been taken by … by … it could just be a co-incidence." Steve couldn't say her name aloud and didn't really believe what he was saying was true, but he needed to at least get the possibility out in the open.

The panic which had reduced just slightly over the past two days was making its presence felt once more and Steve had to clench his fists and concentrate on the pain that action caused to keep it at bay.

"Yeah right, captivity has warped your brain, Sloan."

"We need to do what we did last time. Concentrate on finding Melosa Arriaga." Mark ignored the last comment, knowing that to acknowledge it would give credence to something which was blatantly untrue. "Steve, you need to do a photo fit picture. You're the only one of us who has seen her. We need to know what she looks like."

Steve swallowed hard before looking at his father. The support and reassurance he needed to do a job he dreaded wasn't there, although some of the enthusiasm had returned to the older man's voice, his eyes were still lifeless and Steve's panic increased another level inside of him.

"Steve?" Cheryl's voice was soft and comforting as she moved closer to her partner and she saw Jesse come a little nearer also. "Ann Jackson will be working at the station in the morning. Why don't you come in at nine and go through this with her?"

Steve just nodded and felt a sliver of relief. Ann was one of the best forensic artists there was. Maybe sitting down with her and actually drawing the picture, talking about how she had moved, how the evil had glinted in her eyes, how her hair had fallen. He stopped abruptly, he could only think this through and discuss it once, and he had a feeling that a visit, however short, to James Barrington would be needed immediately afterwards, otherwise his value to this investigation would be extremely limited. He realised that Cheryl was still talking and forced his attention back onto her.

"… I've made arrangements for there to be officers at the front and back of your property tonight. Mark, anywhere you go someone will go too. Steve, the same will happen with you. Jesse, you have to be considered at risk as well, so I have an officer waiting outside ready to go home with you. Agent Wagner, this protection is available to you should you wish to avail yourself of it." Cheryl wanted to feel sympathy for the man, she knew he must be suffering but she also knew that any emotion would be wasted on someone as focused and intolerant as he was.

"Save your manpower for the search, Detective. I'll be fine." Ron was about to speak again when the phone rang and the entire house sank into an anxious silence.

Cheryl indicated that Mark should answer as it got to its third ring, and the cop sitting with headphones on and a bank of equipment in front of him went to work.

"Mark?" The one word was heard loud and clear over the speaker which Mark had engaged as he picked up the receiver. "Please, Mark …"

"Amanda, Honey, where are you?" Mark's voice was suddenly strong, almost ridiculously so, as he tried to show no fear.

"Mark … tell them … tell them not to come. Arghhh." Amanda was suddenly gone on a scream and then another voice, one which caused Steve's blood to turn to ice, came on the line.

"You really should have left him to rot in the desert, and you, Mark, will you be so lucky next time? She will die, all of you will, one by one. You're living in a house of cards, Doctor, and I will make it fall."

The dial tone shouted out that the call had ended and looking towards the technician Cheryl saw him shake his head. It hadn't been long enough.

"Steve!" Jesse had spoken very little since he had returned but he had felt his friend waiver beside him and now he gently helped him into a chair and watched as all the colour drained from his face, leaving his blue eyes to speak of his terror.

"I'm sorry, I am so sorry." The fear made his stomach rebel and he knew that the little he had eaten of the barbeque meal was about to return, Jesse saw it too and hastily placed a quickly emptied fruit bowl next to him, knowing that any good done over the past seventy two hours had just been eradicated.

ooo

The riding crop, which had been held underneath her chin as she made the call, had swished down so near to her face that Amanda had felt the hairs closest to her hair band move in the draft it caused and she had screamed. Deep inside herself she knew that none of those listening to the call would take any notice of her plea, but she'd had to try, if only because she had no doubt that anyone who came after her would be killed too.

Melosa had left her alone as soon as the call ended; she was still on her knees not having the energy to even try to get to her feet. The cuffs which held her arms firmly behind her back were similar to the ones around her ankles and the fear that her vulnerability caused was making her breath come in gasps.

A picture of her two sons came up into her mind unbidden and tears filled her eyes. The only comfort was that they were with her mother whose loving face was the next one that she could see and the resultant tears slipped down her face. She had felt no danger, had had no idea that she was being followed, until a black SUV had gently forced her off the road.

_The words of annoyance died on her lips as the barrel of a gun had appeared through the glass by her left temple and she had stammered out her plea._

_"Please, please, just take my purse. I don't have anything else."_

_"It's you I want. So if you would just step out of the vehicle."_

_The words had been spoken pleasantly enough, but the menace behind them was clear and she had done as instructed immediately._

_The cuffs had been put on her wrists and then a blindfold was tied around her eyes. After this had been done she was pushed into what she presumed was the back seat of the SUV which had blackened windows and the usually reassuring smell of a new car._

_"Who are you? And what do you want with me?"_

_"My name is Melosa and I think you know what I want."_

_The words had seared themselves into her heart making it miss a beat and after that she had said nothing._

ooo

He hadn't even had the comfort of his slippers to ease his torment. Somehow the pink and fluffy footwear seemed too frivolous for the situation they found themselves in and Jesse had helped Steve put a pair of sneakers on as the evening cooled a little and he had felt the chill of the floor permeating his body. As he now sat at the dining table looking out at the ocean he felt no reassurance from the fact that there were two officers at the front of the house and the same number at the rear.

He had to find Amanda before she was harmed any more than she had been. The scream lingered in his mind, and his entire body ached to know what it was that had caused it. His entire body ached anyway and Steve cursed the limitations which were still in place that stopped him heading off into the night and taking charge of the investigation himself.

Jesse asked to stay over and Steve had discovered that his friend's car had broken down just about a mile along PCH; he had been waiting for the wrecker when Cheryl had drawn up and brought him back to the beach house.

Jesse had long ago passed the stage in his life where he had to rely on the unreliable and Steve knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the vehicle had been tampered with. He had spoken quietly to Cheryl as soon as he discovered what had happened and the car was being taken to the station for a thorough check out.

"Steve, I've persuaded Mark to go to bed. If you don't do the same I'm gonna start on you." Jesse had seemingly come out of nowhere and Steve jumped as he heard his voice.

"No, no, I'll be fine."

"No, you won't. I can go through your list of injuries if you like and then just add sleep deprivation and foul mood to the end of them. I can even give you my medical opinion as your doctor of choice. But the main thing I can think of is this. Amanda needs you to help find her, apart from her children, you, Mark and Ron are her life. Also, you're the only one of us who knows what this woman looks like. You have to get some sleep so you can go and do a good photo-fit session." Jesse paused for a moment. "Steve, please."

The moment Jesse lowered his voice to plead with his friend Steve was lost. The emotions that were so close to the surface the entire time threatened him and without another word he just nodded his head and made his way painfully and slowly towards the guest bedroom he had been using since he came home from the hospital hearing his friend follow him as he did so.

The bed seemed to mock him. He knew that he needed to lie down and let the day go. Jesse was right; he couldn't help if he didn't get enough sleep, but if he closed his eyes then his dreams would return. Since Amanda had been taken he had found himself back in his waking nightmare, he didn't know if he could cope with that and the ones which had been with him in the darkness almost continually since he had left Community General.

Taking a deep breath to try and calm himself Steve ignored the pain it caused, and Jesse look of concern, as he began to undo the buttons on his shirt. The short sleeves made it easy for him to shrug it off his left arm but he needed help with his right.

"Let me." Carefully Jesse undid the support on Steve's right arm and gently eased the shirt completely off; but as he did so he caught sight of Steve's back in the bedroom mirror and saw the reaction the same view caused his friend.

"Don't say anything. I'll deal with the rest." Steve knew he couldn't cope with any kindness and he saw Jesse nod and he knew he understood.

Jesse began to replace the sling, trying to minimize the pain he knew he was causing his friend, and when he was finished he made sure that Steve's pain meds were waiting for him by the bed. "You ok with those?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, thanks, Jess."

Knowing that there was nothing else he could do Jesse smiled before departing. "G'night, Steve. Sleep well."

He couldn't answer, couldn't take his eyes off the sight in the mirror. The lattice work of scars and some still barely healed wounds made him think back to his conversation earlier in the evening with Amanda. Melosa had used the whip on him with undisguised enjoyment and he didn't think any of them would be able to cope if she did the same thing to his beautiful and gentle friend.

The memories were already beginning to crowd in on him. The sound of the whip, the birds which he remembered circling overhead as he stood in Death Valley, the unbearable desperation as he discovered that his dad was hundreds of miles away when he needed him. With a groan he sat heavily on the bed and, leaving his pants and sneakers on, lay back and prepared to fight whatever demons he had to in order to prepare himself for the morning.

Gradually the house descended into an uneasy silence until everyone was supposedly either asleep or resting their bodies in bed. Just after two in the morning a door creaked open and a bare footed man made his way towards the doors out onto the deck. Taking no notice of the officer who could be seen sitting in a lawn chair at the top of the steps he sat at the table and rested his head in his hands. The extreme anxiety and almost unbelievable loneliness that were invading his very being surprised him and, with a deep sigh, Ron Wagner said a prayer for the woman he loved.

ooo

Breakfast would have been ignored if Jesse hadn't insisted on it. There was no way that he could go through an entire day without at least a cup of coffee and a slice or two of toast. As soon as that had been dealt with though Steve and his shadowing officer had climbed into the squad car and headed off for the station.

Ron had made no attempt at conversation but drained a cup of black coffee before heading back to his field office to, as he said, get things moving and then Jesse and Mark found themselves alone.

Part of Jesse had wanted to go with Steve. Not only to be a strength to his friend when he needed it but also because he was interested to see how the process was actually undertaken. Mark needed him most though, and Steve would have Cheryl close by, so he had pushed aside his natural curiosity and desperate desire to be involved once again in the search for a friend and stayed with his mentor.

Mark had sat and watched his house empty around him and tried to fight his way out of the fog which seemed to have invaded his very being. The last few weeks had been a nightmare that he hadn't been able to believe was happening and, just as it appeared to be over, the entire thing had started up again.

The journey from Nevada to Community General Hospital had both scared and relieved him. He had needed to be with his son, to feel his reassuring presence by his side, but the entire time he had been on the move he had been scared. Ron had been with him and he was grateful for the company he had provided, but he had never felt quite so alone in the world since Katherine had left him.

He had thought that once he got to the hospital, once he had been reunited with his friends and his son, that things would begin to improve but he realised now, as he sat trying to remember what he had planned to do this morning, they hadn't changed at all. He didn't seem to be able to get past the fact that he had done the one thing he had tried all along to avoid. He had led his son into danger and almost got him killed.

The weight of guilt once again threatened him and Mark got to his feet suddenly, causing the wound in his chest to pull and extract a gasp from him.

"Mark, steady, what is it you want? I'll go get it for you." Jesse was on his own feet in an instant a look of concern on his face.

"The tape." He realised what it was he had thought of in the middle of the night. "We need a copy of the tape that was made when Amanda called. If we take it to the hospital we can get it checked out."

"Bannerman."

Jesse smiled. He remembered the day spent in a room full of cigar smoke as tape after tape of celebrity interviews on a radio show had been listened to and compared to the voice of a man that, at the time, they thought was a killer.

Mark nodded his head in agreement. "That's him. He took the speech off a tape and you figured out that the guy was a cab driver. We don't want that type of information this time, but he may be able to help."

"We'll have to use your car, mine's in the shop." Jesse didn't want to worry his friend, even though he himself was very concerned by the fact that his new blue BMW had suddenly died on him the previous evening and he had coasted to a stop on a, thankfully, reasonably deserted stretch of road.

"I have a police escort, we can use his car." Mark was making his way to the door as he spoke, seemingly unable, or unwilling, to make the connection that Jesse had about his car, and even though Jesse was pleased to see the spark of life in his friend he was still very concerned for him.

ooo

The forensic artist had been at the station already when Steve arrived. She had a file in front of her and was looking at the photo of the victim and making a few notes to help her when she began working with a witness to an attack which had resulted in a pointless death. She smiled as Steve entered the room and put everything away, knowing that the usually cool and calm detective was hurting and would want to get the unpleasant job over as soon as possible.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't come to you, Steve, I know you're on medical leave right now. But this murder has to take precedence." She indicated the file as she spoke. "The victim was only twenty-one and she was found shot in a parking lot in Studio City." Ann Jackson began drawing a general outline of a woman's face as she spoke. "If the witness arrives before we're finished I may have to go deal with that first."

"That's ok. I understand. Let's try to get as much accomplished as we can before they get here." Although he wouldn't admit it to the young woman in front of him if she left him alone with the picture he wasn't sure if his courage would fail him and he would flee.

"So, she was young, what early twenties?"

"Early to mid twenties I would say. She was of Mexican descent and had almost black eyes." He closed his own as he spoke and Melosa's face came up in front of him. He managed to suppress the gasp that threatened him and looked around the room for something to concentrate on. Anything that would take his mind away from the more unpleasant memories associated with his task.

"I've started off with an oval face, but only because it is easiest. You tell me what I need to do and I can change it in any way you want." Ann could see that he was suffering and so she explained things a little more than she usually would to such an experienced officer, hoping to draw him out of himself and away from his fears.

Steve nodded. He had worked with a variety of forensic artists over the years and they all did things in slightly different ways, just as most cops did. Ann was the best of the bunch at the moment, maybe because she was a woman, he didn't know, but she seemed to have an inbred understanding of what to do to bring the drawings to life. This time though part of him wasn't so sure that he wanted that to happen.

Gradually the shape of the face became slightly more rounded and, as he described and then corrected those descriptions, the lips and nose were added. Cheek bones, or the appearance of them, changed the face, making it more or less three dimensional and the shading which was added as well gave the picture a skin tone which matched his recollections almost exactly. The general shape of the eyes was altered and the brows were fashioned and arched. The hair began to appear and that was when Steve felt the familiar cold grip of the fear he was fighting begin to strengthen.

"Steve, are you alright?" Ann's voice sounded concerned in his ear and he looked at her.

"Yeah, yeah, you're just doing your job too well." He tried a smile but it wasn't very successful.

"Thank you." Ann bowed her head slightly. She would take the compliment even though she knew that her work produced pain as well as results. "How long was her hair?"

"It came down to about …" Steve paused for a moment as he thought. It had been longer in the back than the front. He reached out with his left hand and drew an imaginary line just below Ann's shoulder and she nodded.

"Ok. So we're talking about this length, yes, and straight?" She saw an almost imperceptible nod and the first strong strokes showed what the hair would look like if it were indeed over the front of her left shoulder. "How did she wear it? Up, down, or half and half?"

This time he really did have to stop and think. When he had first met her, how had her hair been then? He could see her, smiling, appearing to be friendly, and her hair had been tousled by the wind, which caught it and moved it freely. "Down, she had it down."

"Like this?" the pencil darted across the page again and this time it finished off the hair; one side was still in front of the shoulder but the other wasn't and Steve nodded his head. The picture showed easily both ways that she looked.

"Did she have bangs?" Again the question floored him.

"I … I don't know." He looked down at his left hand, the right still being in its sling, the scarring on his wrist was already fading a little and he held the marks in his gaze as he tried to cover his embarrassment at being unable to answer the simple question.

"Look at this." Ann slid the tablet of paper under his nose and he stared at it. Something wasn't right and so he shook his head. "Ok, hold on a little minute here."

The room was silent and then once again he was instructed to look at the picture. This time his palms felt clammy, his heart rate increased and his mouth was suddenly dry.

"That's her. My, God, that's her." Steve looked at the woman on the page and then up to the artist who had drawn her. Immediately he was aware of the fact that Ann, now she could look objectively at what she had done, was also shocked.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing, nothing, it's just a coincidence that's all."

"What is?" Steve knew what whatever she was about to say it wasn't going to be any type of coincidence.

"This woman, see?" She bent down and picked up the file that she had been looking at when Steve first arrived and showed him the crime scene photo.

He held it in his hand and looked again at the, now lifeless, face of the young woman who had surprised him outside the elevator at Community General.

ooo

The air in Doctor Bannerman's room didn't seem any clearer or sweeter than the last time he had been there, and for a moment Jesse wondered idly what the smoke did to all the expensive machinery housed there.

"So, Doc Sloan, Doc Travis, long time no see. What can I do y'for this time?" The long cigar flew around in his hand as he spoke and both men took a step back to avoid the fumes.

"We have a tape we need you to work your magic on." Mark handed over the copy of his answer phone cassette which the technician, who seemed to have set up home at the beach house, had made for him before they left.

"Sure, sure, always pleased to help. Let's see here." He slid the tape into the player and began listening to it. "Mark? Please, Mark …" The voice was painful to listen to and Jesse and Mark's expressions told Doctor Bannerman that this was no ordinary case they were working on.

"So, I'm guessing you know who this is?" The otolaryngologist looked at the two men before him and saw them both nod.

"You do too. That's Doctor Amanda Bentley." Mark's voice was tinged with the anger which was beginning to lift the fog he had been living in lately.

"That sweet child who looks at dead bodies all day?" Bannerman shook his head. "I was just down there a little while ago. Right, we need to move on this one then." He began to flick switches and twist knobs and both Jesse and Mark felt a surge of hope as another person joined the fight to find and free their friend.

ooo

Cheryl had been called to the room where Ann and Steve were and together the three of them had discussed what they knew. Then, as the other witness arrived, the two homicide detectives left the artist to her work and found themselves an empty interview room for a few minutes of quiet discussion.

"How can you be sure that this is a set up?" Cheryl's voice sounded slightly sceptical and Steve had to admit to not being surprised.

"Think about it for a moment; she kidnaps me," he ignored the anxiety his statement caused, now wasn't the time, "and who goes after her? Dad, Jesse, Amanda and Ron with you holding the fort here. She told me that she was after my father, that if I would only give her his phone number she … she would let me go and just kill him." This time he had to close his eyes for a moment to gather himself.

"When I didn't do that she shot him and left me … well, she just left me. But she didn't succeed and so she's come back for another go. She told dad this morning that he was living in a house of cards and she was going to make it fall.

"You do that by just giving it a little nudge. So she scares me witless at the hospital, using a look alike just similar enough to do the job. Jesse's car breaks down so he can't save Amanda and she's kidnapped. The one witness to her plans so far is then gunned down in a parking lot in Studio City." He paused for a moment. He had her, he knew it, he could see it in her eyes.

"That seems far too much to be a coincidence. And the photo, don't forget the photo. No one but her could have sent that." The picture had been dealt with by forensics and then both Mark and Steve had looked at it. Whilst it brought back extremely unpleasant, frightening memories for Steve he knew that it heaped more and more guilt onto his already suffering father and that made him feel guilty too.

"Look, Steve, I think you're actually right, but I'll need to run all this past Newman. You go home and I'll contact you later in the day. There isn't anything you can do but rest and let us look for her. We have people out doing door to door but it's not easy when your victim is taken the way she was. I know you …" She paused as Steve's cell phone began to ring in his pocket.

"Sloan … Dad? You did, that's great … no, I'm done here. I … I thought I'd come speak to James so I'll be right over … yeah, bye." He closed his phone, disconnecting the call and then turned, his blue eyes finally bright again, as he spoke to his partner. "Dad and Jesse have gone to the hospital to work on the tape."

"What tape?" Cheryl looked confused.

"The tape out of the machine that recorded Amanda's call last night. Like I said they're at Community General, I'm gonna go meet up with them there."

He got to his feet and made his way slowly, but definitely with a slightly lighter step, towards the door. Maybe things were moving after all.

ooo

The journey to the hospital had been made in almost total silence. Steve didn't know his escort, but thought he looked almost impossibly young. He couldn't have looked that way when he joined the LAPD, could he? He pushed the thought aside. He knew what he was doing; he was thinking about anything rather than concentrate on the matter at hand.

Amanda was one of his best friends and at the moment he had no idea how to find her. She had put herself in danger for him on numerous occasions and the thought of failing her now was almost unbearable.

She had a graceful quality about her that he had never seen in anyone else. She was elegant and beautiful and he loved her dearly. She also had a temper on her which scared the living daylights out of him and he had no intention of disappointing her either.

"We're here, Lieutenant." The voice told him what he himself had just realised and he carefully undid his seatbelt and opened his car door.

"I would make your way into the vehicle next to you if I were you, my darling."

The voice almost made him loose touch with reality and for a moment he thought he might fall.

"I don't think so." He had no idea where the words came from but he knew they were probably a mistake.

"Unless you want this fine officer to die by your hand I would do as I ask." He turned then and saw that the young man had a gun pressing into him just behind his ear and Steve knew that to refuse would put the death of yet another person on his conscience. He climbed into the rear of a black SUV, heard the cry of his police guard and saw him fall to the ground. Then with a smile on her face, which could only be described as conniving, she pointed the gun towards him and fired.


	5. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

Amanda thought her heart would stop as the key turned in the lock and then the door opened.

"Get in there!"

A blindfolded figure was thrust into the room, the forward motion bringing him to his knees before he crumpled unseeing to the floor calling out in agony as he did so.

Steve! She cried for him inwardly and tried to move forward, to at least inch herself a little closer to him, but it was impossible, the length of chain which attached her cuffs to the wall was already strained to its limits. The cry of pain tore at her heart and all her instincts willed her to move toward him but still she couldn't.

"Well, well, my dear, Lieutenant, this is so nice. I have missed your company."

He heard the voice again which caused his heart and pulse to race in fear and mentally tried to prepare himself for what was to come. The sound of the door being locked startled him and then he felt her soft hands as she pulled the fabric from his eyes. He blinked a couple of times to get used to the light before he looked up and saw her, standing over him, the gun, which he knew was his own, still in her hand.

He couldn't get up; the fall had sent a spiral of pain through him encompassing his ribs and right arm. Even a smart retort was beyond him and although he didn't want to show her any weakness he had no way to do more than just lie at her feet.

"Move back towards the wall." Her voice sent a shiver of fear through him but the pain was even stronger. It had only been a little over three weeks since she had dislocated his shoulder and broken his ribs. They still weren't healed completely and the fall had aggravated the pain more than he wanted to think about.

"I said move back towards the wall!"

"He's hurt, can't you see that?" The appearance of her friend, although escalating her worry ten-fold, had given her a little strength and Amanda fought back for the first time since the phone call.

"Amanda!" He hadn't seen her, hadn't realised that they were together, and the fear he felt was suddenly increased so much that it almost totally overwhelmed him.

Melosa moved towards her female captive and pointed the gun at her legs. "Get over towards the wall; otherwise I will practice my skills on your friend."

"No." The one word was hardly more than a whisper and, dragging himself up onto his knees, Steve crawled towards the other side of the room.

Melosa smiled, two hostages were going to be so much more fun than just one. The loyalty of the little group they belonged to was nauseating, but it could come in handy if she worked it right.

"Now, I think you know what to do. Stand up."

"No … please … not … not the chains." Already he was pleading with her but Steve knew that his resolve was nowhere as strong as it had been the last time. He also had all the fears and emotions resulting from his previous captivity to fight against and he was failing already.

"I have told you what I will do if you don't co-operate, my darling, now stand up." He heard the gun being cocked and knew that he had no choice.

Amanda watched in silence as Steve painfully got to his feet and stood shaking as his left wrist was forced into a manacle and then she saw their captor crouch down and put a pair of handcuffs similar to the ones on her own ankles onto Steve. Amanda gasped as her friend bite back the pain he felt as they were clicked into place and she knew that already he was weakening.

Melosa took two steps back and Steve saw her lick her lips. "There is something still not quite right about this, what can it be?" She looked thoughtful for a moment and then snapped her fingers, "I know. We don't need these." She moved forward and Steve could suddenly see the thin blade she had used before in her hand. Carefully laying the gun on the floor she raised the other weapon and sliced through his sling and, ignoring his cry of pain as its protection was removed, threw it to land next to his feet then, using the scalpel again, she cut through the thin material of his t-shirt before ripping it from his body and throwing it to the floor as well.

"I shall be back, my love, but until then," She leant in and, as he felt the blade rest against his chest through the fog his increased pain was causing, she kissed him brutally on the lips before turning to pick up the gun and leave them alone.

ooo

The smoke filled room had become like a prison. The tape played over and over again, first with Amanda's voice and then without, and still the sampler wasn't finding a match.

"It's there; the noises are there so the equivalent is in here someplace. I have 30,000 sounds in this computer, but I can download others. Go grab yourselves a coffee, guys, and I'll get busy." Doctor Bannerman ground the remains of his latest cigar into the ashtray and began tapping away at the keyboard of a secondary computer on the other side of the room. As he did so there was a commotion outside the door and Jesse opened it to hear the Tannoy, which was not audible inside the confined space, alerting staff to an emergency situation.

"Code Blue, in ER, trauma two, Code Blue in ER, trauma two."

He looked towards his friend, his loyalties impossibly divided, and Mark nodded but then spoke. "I'll be fine. Go, Jesse, see if they need you."

The voice was heard again as Jesse rushed out the door, "Doctor Martin to ER STAT, Doctor Alex Martin to ER STAT."

The elevator was sitting waiting for Jesse and he hit the floor level on the panel and waited for the door to close. Mark had been more receptive, more responsive, almost a little like the old Mark while they had been working with Bannerman. But he knew that if a match wasn't found soon then the progress could be lost.

Jesse came out of the elevator and headed into trauma two just in time to see Alex taking the chart off the chest of a young man on a gurney. "What've you got?"

"What are you doing here?" The younger doctor looked shocked and surprised; he had heard what had been happening to his friends and, knowing that there was no way he could help with the investigation, had volunteered to cover either Jesse or Mark's shifts until they could return, feeling it was the least he could do.

"I was in the building, thought I could help … oh, my God!"

"What? What's the matter?" Alex added confusion to the emotions Jesse had caused to run through him in an impossibly short period of time.

"What happened to him, and where's Steve?" Jesse felt his heart rate increase as he asked his questions.

"He was shot, out in the parking lot. But I don't know where Steve is. Does this guy have something to do with Steve?" Alex pulled on the latex gloves he was handed as he spoke. The figures on the machines being attached to the officer didn't look good. He really didn't have time to talk.

"He was Steve's guard. Save him, Alex, we need him."

"I'll keep you apprised of his status." Alex was already treating the patient and Jesse rushed out of the room with his own guard following him. He went up to the nurses' station where he grabbed the phone and punched in the digits for hospital security while speed dialling the precinct number on his cell phone at the same time and trying to work out what on earth he was going to tell Mark.

ooo

"Amanda?" His voice wasn't very strong but she heard him and looked up, the tears she had been hoping to hide visible on her cheeks.

He tried to ease his position, to somehow take the pressure off his feet which were causing him so much pain. They were healed now, the new skin pink and tender, but taking the weight of his body as he walked still made them ache and feel as if they were going to split apart. If he had been shackled by both arms he would have been able to raise himself up off the floor but with one arm virtually helpless by his side it was impossible. For a moment he laughed inwardly at the absurdity of him wishing for more, rather than less, restraint before he focused in on the sneakers which at least gave him some protection but then he heard Amanda take a tearful breath and he concentrated on her again. "Please, don't cry."

"How can I not? She's gonna kill us both, Steve. Not right away, probably not until she's tried to kill Mark and Jesse," she paused for a moment closing her eyes as she did so, "and Ron. I'm sorry; I know I'm not being very brave, but I'm scared, Steve." She said his name again, somehow gaining strength from being able to do so.

"So am I." The words tumbled out unbidden, he saw the surprise they caused written on her face, and he tried to keep the pain out of his voice long enough to finish what he had to say. "Remember what I said yesterday? That she wouldn't … beat us because together we are stronger than she will ever be? Well that's still true. Amanda, it isn't weak to be scared, in fact it's just the opposite. If you can face … your fears and still fight your demons then you are a very strong person. I have n … never doubted that you can do that." He took a painful breath in and tried not to think about the agony each word or movement caused him.

She was silent for a moment but then looked up and smiled. "Thank you."

"Oh, this is just so touching. I may have to put you in separate rooms so I don't throw up each time I come in here." The third voice split the air as surely as the whip she carried in her hand and she moved across to where Steve was held.

"So, how do you like your new room? It doesn't have the same features as the last one, but still, I think it'll do." She held the whip underneath his chin as she spoke and he tried, unsuccessfully, to turn his head away from her. Suddenly she moved her hand and the weapon flashed through the air striking him across the ribs and he couldn't hold in the cry of pain.

"Steve, no!" Amanda's cry was just as loud as his own and she strained against the chains which held her but couldn't prevent her from trying to get to him.

Tears flooded his eyes as the pain refused to go away. Again she brought the whip down and Steve felt sure that he would pass out from the agony it caused. Then, almost as if she had been reading his mind knelt down in front of him and, twisting his body to help her she, none too gently, removed his footwear.

ooo

Once Jesse had finished on both phones he made his way back into the elevator and returned to Bannerman's room. As he opened the door he heard the flick of the lighter and knew that yet another cigar had made an appearance.

"Jess, that was quick … Jesse, what is it? Is it Steve? Amanda?" The words tumbled out as Mark saw the look of despondency on Jesse's face.

"The code blue was Steve's guard. No one has seen him, Mark. He's just gone."

"No." Mark sagged back against the desk he was standing by. "We were supposed to be safe – what happened?"

Jesse came across and sat his friend down in the seat which Doctor Bannerman had quickly wheeled across. He was glad, for once, that the smoking chimney of a man was with him.

"I don't know. I called Cheryl, she's coming over. But," Jesse paused, not sure how his friend would take the rest of the information he had.

"But what? What do you mean, but?"

"Mark, he was shot in the parking lot of the hospital. Steve was on his way here."

Jesse wasn't sure what response he was expecting but one of pure fury wasn't it.

"This is a place of healing. People who come here, however they come here, expect to be safe. How dare she take that away!" Mark closed his eyes; again he had led his child, his only child now, into danger and worse than that he had led another young man into the same danger. Opening his eyes he looked up at Jesse. "How's the officer?"

"Not good, Alex was with him when I came back here. He said he'd keep in touch."

Mark nodded his head and then turned back to the other doctor in the room. "If it is her, and who else could it be?" He paused for a second, "Then this just got twice as urgent." Mark trailed off. He didn't want to be stuck in this small room for the rest of the day, he needed to get out there, find clues, do something, anything, to save his son.

"Well, you know, I'd work a whole lot better if I had my room back." Doctor Bannerman smiled as he said it and the two doctors, gratefully taking the escape route they had been offered, smiled back at him, gathered up their own guards and left him alone.

ooo

The phone call from Doctor Travis had come through just as Cheryl was handing out the photo fit picture of Melosa Arriaga. Most of the cops in the station who had attended a homicide had worked with Doctor Bentley, no one had a bad word to say about her and everyone wanted to get her back safely.

When word arrived that there was a chance that Lieutenant Sloan had been taken as well, by the same woman who had almost killed him the last time, there was an urgency and barely restrained fury amongst the men and women of the North Hollywood precinct which Cheryl could only sympathise with.

She filled her Captain in as quickly as she could on the current situation and then grabbed her coat and gun and headed for Community General Hospital.

ooo

He hadn't realised until his footwear was gone just how uneven and sharp the floor beneath his feet actually was. Where Amanda was lying it didn't look that way, although through the dust and debris it was hard to be sure, and he had a feeling that the place he was now standing had been prepared especially for him by his captor. His ankles, which had been protected somewhat by his socks, were being bitten into by the cuffs, which had looked suspiciously like his own and any movement only increased the pain he felt from head to foot.

Melosa had run her hands up and over his body in her gentle way which usually was a precursor for actions of violence and pain. Every muscle tautened in preparation for whatever form of torture she planned to practice next but when nothing happened he relaxed just a little but felt a blush of shame rush up his body as he realised that Amanda could see everything that this woman was doing to him, and that right now she was watching a very one sided form of physical affection which repulsed him.

"You seem so anxious, my darling. What can Melosa do to calm you down?"

"How about letting us go?" He found strength from deep inside himself and, willing his fear to stay back, looked into her eyes.

The laugh that escaped her almost tinkled in the silence. "Why, Lieutenant, and I'd heard you had no sense of humour!" She ran her hands over his chest as she spoke, and felt the muscles clench as they were touched. Steve turned an even deeper shade of red and Melosa realised that the presence of her other hostage was causing him to feel emotions other than those she had envisaged. He was embarrassed. For a moment she continued and then she placed a lingering kiss on his lips, rejoicing in his discomfort.

Steve tried unsuccessfully to move away from her but she kept her lips firmly against his until he became still again. Her fingers were making gentle circular movements on his chest and had to fight down the bile that the sensation forced into his throat, but then her hand strayed towards his right shoulder and, as she massaged the tips into the muscles there, he felt a cold sweat start as he battled for control of the agony she caused.

"Stop it! Can't you see what you're doing to him?" Amanda cried out as her friend swayed and she saw his eyes begin to roll in his head from the pain he was in. "How can you hurt anyone that way?"

Melosa immediately stepped back from Steve who slumped forwards, his left arm taking his entire weight as he did so. She walked across the floor and Amanda watched in fascinated horror as the almost impossibly high heels on a pair of black stiletto's made their way closer and closer to her.

"How can I hurt someone? Why, it is so easy. The gasp as they realise just how much business I mean is all I need to spur me on." Melosa had grabbed Amanda's hair as she spoke, forcing a similar gasp to escape as she felt her head being pulled back so that they had to look at each other.

"Leave her … alone. It's me you want … let her go." It had taken all of his energy to force himself back against the wall so that he could see Amanda after Melosa had finally stopped the probing and kneading of his shoulder. The pain was still there though and he fought through the fog it produced, knowing that he had to get her away from his friend.

"I didn't … realise …" He took a breath as he considered his words knowing that they would cause him pain. "You were that much … of … of a coward."

Slowly and menacingly she turned and once again crossed the floor towards him. His heart began beating hard and fast in his chest, his palms grew clammy but he knew he had to keep her with him, had to make sure that Amanda wasn't harmed so his dad, Ron and Jesse could find them.

"A coward?" Her hand flashed out and slapped him hard across the face. "What kind of coward is it who hounds a man who is only trying to protect his family?" Again she hit him, his head turning with the force. "What kind of coward is it who takes his father along with him on his cases? Who gets him shot because he can't work alone? How dare you!" The scalpel sliced across his chest and then he felt the riding crop as it descended on him in a fury. He tried to stay with her, tried to goad her again to keep her attention away from Amanda, but the pain grew to be too much and his friend's screams were the last thing he heard as he let unconsciousness claim him.

ooo

"And you were going to let me in on this latest development, when?" Ron Wagner's voice boomed across the doctors' lounge and it was all Cheryl could do not to cringe at the hateful tone he used.

"I was going to let you know once I had a bit more information to impart. But for once the Feds were up to speed and here you are, just a little ahead of me!" The words were flung back at the tall man who was standing, seething before her. "Now, are you gonna sit down and let me tell you what I have?"

Without another word Ron flung himself into a vacant chair at the table just in front of him. He stuck his long legs underneath the table and Jesse scooted backwards so that he wasn't doing something wrong as well.

Taking advantage of the silence Cheryl began to talk. "Ok. Steve finished his photo fit picture with Ann this morning. This is Melosa Arriaga." Three copies of the picture were laid on the table in front of Mark, Jesse and Ron and each of them picked one up.

Mark looked at the face of the woman who had twice taken his son away from him, at the woman who had this time also taken one of his closest friends and who had tried to kill him. He knew that he was still in danger, and he tried to imprint the face on his brain so that there was no possibility of him not recognising her.

Ron saw Jesse take in the picture in one glance and then look back to Cheryl anxious to carry on. But he kept his eyes on the face a little longer. This animal had taken the only woman he had ever loved away from him. He didn't think he had it in him to hate anyone but she came as close as he ever wanted to get and he knew that he would kill her to get Amanda back.

Gradually the conversation ceased and the four friends sat in silence. Mark and Jesse were both anxious to know how Doctor Bannerman was doing but they knew that he would contact them as soon as he had anything. Ron felt his mind wander back through the memories he and Amanda had made, he wanted to focus on the case, to work out where to go next, but his heart wouldn't let him.

Cheryl had kept up a constant liaison with the station but had refused to leave the hospital telling her Captain that any news that came through she would pass on, because she had a feeling that it would all be bad.

Finally though as the world grew dark outside and a chill pervaded the air the female detective spoke.

"Steve told me what happened in the elevator here earlier in the week."

"He did? Wow!" Jesse was amazed that his friend would have passed on something which showed his inner feelings so freely.

"The young woman's name was Janice D'Marco, she was twenty-one years of age, and she was found yesterday with a bullet in her back." Cheryl paused for a moment, "She was killed with Steve's gun."

Mark was on his feet in an instant. "If you're suggesting that because she scared him he …"

"No, Mark, of course I'm not suggesting anything of the sort! Even if I was, Steve doesn't have his weapon any longer. It was taken the first time and we didn't recover it." Cheryl cut off Mark's words angry that he would even think something like that.

He was about to apologise, about to ask for more details on the killing of Janice D'Marco, when the door opened and Doctor Bannerman walked in.

"I've got it. I've got a match on the noise."


	6. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

He could feel the floor firm beneath him, at least he thought it was the floor, and tentatively he moved his left arm towards the agony burning in the rest of his body. There was no resistance and, wanting to act before the freedom was removed, he curled up into a tight ball, cushioning himself against anything else which might happen.

"Steve."

The voice was soft and warm and carefully he moved his head so that he could see her.

"Amanda … I'm … I'm sorry … you shouldn't … shouldn't be here." His voice cracked as he spoke, knowing that he was responsible for her being in such a dangerous position.

There was a slight smile in her voice as she replied; she could at least assuage his guilt a little. "This isn't your fault; she didn't take me because of you."

"What? Arghhh!" Her comment made him uncurl a little and his pain took advantage of that and shot through him causing the world to fade for a moment.

"Ron killed her dogs. That's why she took me."

"No!" The response wasn't what she had hoped for. At the mention of the vile creatures that her love had shot Steve began to shake. "No, God, no."

"Steve, shhh, it's alright, they're not here. It's just you and me." She lowered her voice a little more. "Just you and me."

"I … I can't do this … not again, not any more." His voice broke as he spoke and, curled up in his own little world, the tears came and he had nothing left within him to stop them.

ooo

"What? What is it, where are they?"

Doctor Bannerman's announcement had coursed through the room like an electric shock. Mark had recovered first and begun peppering the man with questions.

"Which part of LA are they in? Do you have an exact location? Jesse, get your medical bag."

"Mark, sit down, ok? Let me explain." The doctor looked round for a spare chair, then made himself comfortable at the table, and smiled in gratitude as Jesse handed him a cup of coffee.

For a moment it looked as if Mark was going to refuse to listen but, with as deep a sigh as his still injured chest would allow, he made himself comfortable once again in his seat.

"The reason we didn't get the noises right off was because they were sort of second hand."

"How do you mean?" Jesse looked at Bannerman, the interest shining in his eyes. He needed his friends back desperately but he was also intensely curious about how the man got his results.

"Amanda made her phone call from inside a building, so all the sounds we heard were sort of muffled. Also some of them were only half noises which the computer didn't get until I downloaded some new software. It also didn't get them until I got rid of all the bugs that the new programs caused which is why this has taken me so long."

"Half noises?" Ron looked at the man in front of him, he had no idea who he was but he smelt like a bonfire and was talking in riddles.

"If I picked this mug up and dropped it on the floor while you were talking on the phone, and it was taped, my computer would know what the noise was. No problem it's an easy one. But, if I dropped it just as you put the receiver down, I might get only the first millisecond of the sound, that's not so easy to work out."

"And you got half sounds?"

"Oh yeah, at the beginning of the call and again at the end, listen." He pulled a small Walkman style cassette player out of his pocket and plugged in two tiny speakers. Then he put the tape in and pressed play. Amanda's voice flooded the room and Ron clenched his fists underneath the table. He would not let these words be the last ones he heard her speak.

"The noise at the beginning is a heavy chain. Not the sort that you do up your gate with, I think it's the type that has those great big hooks on them …"

"Down by the docks!" It was Mark who cut in and as he did so he saw Cheryl opening up her cell phone.

"Maybe, it could be that, because the other sound, the one at the end of the tape, is part of a seagull's cry."

"This is Detective Sergeant Cheryl Banks, North Hollywood Division, patch me through to Harbor."

As Cheryl moved away into the corner of the room Ron, Mark and Jesse listened to the tape once more, all of them wanting to leave and start the search but knowing that they couldn't, not quite yet.

"There are other sounds on there, but you knew about them. We identified a train and a truck."

"I don't hear anything." Ron looked extremely sceptical as again his girlfriend's voice tore into his heart and took another piece of it.

"That's because you're listening to the voice. I'm not interested in what she's saying so she doesn't distract me."

"And you're sure, you're sure that it's a chain swinging and a seagull – why didn't I get the seagull? I've lived by the beach since Steve was eleven." Mark's excitement at finding a possible location for his son dipped a little as he realised he should have recognised the sounds much earlier.

"You didn't get it because it was a half sound. Now, we need a map and a pair of strong walking boots, there's a lot of harbor in LA." Doctor Bannerman drained his coffee cup and placed it down on the table just as Ron stood up.

"No need, I'll get the chopper. What're we looking for, chains, trucks, trains and birds?" This time it was Ron who made his way towards a quieter part of the room but Cheryl shook her head and he followed her back watching as she placed a hand on Mark's shoulder, causing him to jump in his seat.

"Sorry! I've been onto Harbor and they're gonna send patrols out with Melosa's picture as well as Steve and Amanda's. But I have to tell you there is over seven and a half thousand acres of land to cover with forty-three miles of waterfront. Time isn't gonna be on our side."

"Then we have to help ourselves. Jesse, you said that the officer was shot here, that Melo … she, she took Steve from here. We need the security film." Mark was on his feet as he spoke and it was apparent that although still in pain the fire was back and Cheryl and Jesse both knew they were about to put a dampener on things.

"Mark, the security team will be on night duty now. We won't be able to get the film analysed until the morning." Jesse saw his friend sag a little and his heart bled for him.

"Besides nothing is gonna be spotted tonight, Ron, can you get the chopper for first thing in the morning? The patrols will be increased then too and things can start to move again." Cheryl spoke quietly, hoping that would soften what she was saying.

**"**Yeah, I'll get that sorted." This time Ron was allowed to move away to make his call and Mark tried to control his emotions before speaking.

"Can't we try to find them tonight? The docks works twenty-four hours a day … we could at least drive around it a little bit." The desperation was back and although Jesse knew that Bannerman had done the best he could he still cursed him for taking so long.

"Mark, the noises are different at night; we could be real close and then drive right by them. Why don't you come back to my place with me? We'll get some sleep and be back here first thing to get the video figured out." Jesse was determined that his friend would at least rest away from the hospital and although he saw resistance in his eyes it wasn't as strong as he had feared it might be.

ooo

"I can't do this again … not any more … can't do it." He had been saying the same words over and over for the last few minutes and it seemed that he couldn't get past them to think about anything else. Gradually though he realised that something in the room was different again.

He knew that he was drifting in and out of consciousness, his pain tolerance levels weren't so high that he could cope with the agony which screamed at him from both his chest and his shoulder for very long before the world faded away. He had floated back a couple of times only to have forgotten where he was and what had happened to him. Then the pain had reminded him and the horror had enveloped him once again. Now though, it was dark and he was certain that time, quite a lot of time, had passed.

Mark's face came up in his mind and he tried to keep it there, to gain strength from it. Part of him wanted to call for his dad, to plea for his release but he knew that when Melosa came back into the room he would do neither. But now, while he had the freedom to let his guard down, he needed to hear his friend's voice, which was so soothing and soft as she spoke to him. "Amanda … help me … can't do this." He waited, but the room stayed silent.

"Amanda?" Again there was no reply and trying to prepare himself mentally for the agony that moving would entail Steve looked around and, even though the room was dark, saw to his horror that he was about to spend the night alone.

ooo

"What do you mean you haven't got to it yet?" Mark's words exploded out in a fury and he saw the head of hospital security look on in disbelief first at his subordinate and then at Ron who had taken a menacing step towards the guard on duty in the video feed room.

The night had passed at a snail's pace and Jesse had been relieved to be back at the hospital. Mark hadn't slept well, getting up and moving from room to room, bookcase to bookcase during the night and, in the end, he had felt obliged to get up and wait with him.

Ron and Cheryl both looked as if they had at least slept but neither of them were fresh either.

The voice of the security guard on duty was almost childishly stubborn as he answered Mark's question. "We had two purse snatchers and a flasher in the lobby I have to give these things the priority I think they deserve. They happened first."

"My son was kidnapped and a police officer was gunned down. How can that come third behind two muggers and a pervert?"

"Doctor, you do your job to the best of your ability and I'll do mine. Now, do you want to see the tape or not?"

The man, who had the name Jenkins on his shirt, held the video tape just out of reach of Mark's hands as he spoke, but almost jumped out of his skin as Ron snatched it off him from behind.

"I suggest you move aside or I'll arrest you for obstructing the course of justice." His voice and posture showed that Ron meant business and suddenly Mr. Jenkins found that he really needed to be concentrating on things on the other side of the room.

"What's with this guy?" Jesse looked at Mark and could see the despair returning to his eyes.

"He … I … it was never meant to hurt Steve. Again, I did it again." The words made no sense at all and Jesse, suddenly concerned for his friend, guided him towards the door by his arm. "Ron, you know what you're looking for. Find it. We'll be back."

"I apologise, Doctor Sloan, he'll find himself working the security detail in the garbage area by lunchtime." The man who Jenkins worked under was known to everyone as just Bill. He watched as the two doctors left the room and then turned towards where Ron was sitting. "Let me set this up for you." Then he slid the video into the machine and pointed to the correct monitor. "What time did you say this happened?"

ooo

The security room was just off the main lobby of the hospital and Jesse took Mark through it and into the first free consulting room he found, making sure that he put the busy sign on the door.

"Mark, I want you to just sit for a minute and then tell me what you meant in there." Although the words had worried Jesse it was his friend's continued descent back into despondency which had caused him to remove Mark and try to speak with him.

"I can't sit here. We have to find them, Jess. We have to find them." Although the words were the type he had hoped for there was no movement with them, it was almost as if Mark was saying what he thought Jesse wanted to hear.

"Ok. And we will. But as your doctor, Mark, I'm worried about you. Yesterday you were ready to lead the investigation now I'm losing you again. We need your help to find Steve and Amanda. But if it's gonna cause you too much pain then I'll admit you to the hospital and find them without you. I'm sorry." Jesse didn't think he had ever spoken in such a way to his boss before but he knew it needed to be said.

"No, Jesse, please. It's just …" Mark paused, he knew how his actions looked, and if it had been anyone else behaving as he was he would have done just as Jesse was threatening to.

"It's just what? You have to tell me, Mark, before it breaks you."

He nodded, knowing that again the younger doctor was right. "Everywhere we go with this I'm making it worse for Steve." He'd said it; he couldn't take it back, now Jesse would know that all of this was his fault.

"What? No, Mark, she's the one to blame, her and her brother. Mando killed that woman and then blamed it on Denise. No law-abiding citizen who worked that out could let it pass. You just did what anyone else would have done."

"No, I didn't. Anyone else would have left it up to the police. Look at me, Jess; I'm a doddery old fool who should know better. I told Steve and I'll tell you too. I'm gonna resign. Give it all up. Let you do your job without my interfering, and Steve too. I can't even mind my own business enough to get a video played urgently."

"You've lost me totally now. Steve won't want you to resign and I sure don't. Mark, you are an excellent doctor, I wouldn't want anyone else on my case, and Steve, he _wants_ you to work with him. Don't you think he would have said something if he didn't? He brings cases home; he discusses things freely with you because he _wants_ to. He loves you and he wants your unique slant on life. He will never solve cases like you do because he just can't think that way. But he doesn't only need your help he wants it. We all do." Jesse stopped talking, blushing suddenly as he realised how passionate he had become.

"Thanks, Jesse." Mark smiled but then saw that he was still confusing his friend and his heart fell again as he heard him speak.

"But I still don't see how any of that makes Jenkins keep back the video."

"A while ago, I don't know, might even be a coupla years, before Bill came, so he wouldn't make the connection, we were losing supplies from one of the closets in the ER, I didn't say anything to anyone so you wouldn't have known about it. There was nothing huge taken, a few packs of pain killers here, rolls of gauze there, a fire extinguisher disappeared as well if I remember correctly. Well it was Jenkins. I took it upon myself, because I just couldn't stop!" His voice rose for a moment but then it lowered and he carried on, "I set up a separate camera in the storeroom. He was disconnecting the official one and taking the supplies. They were for his personal use, nothing very terrible and I didn't want him to lose his job. He got reprimanded and when the head of department vacancy came up he applied but didn't get it, Bill did. So I guess he thought this was a good way to get back at me and once again Steve suffers!" Mark slammed his fist down onto the table in front of him and set off an aftershock of pain which left him breathless.

"Whoa, look, I would really like you to be in one piece when we find Steve this time, ok? Things like that aren't gonna help."

The guilt of what had happened previously joined the pain as it coursed through him but Mark shut it away. He would find his son, Jenkins had been dishonest, and Mando and Melosa Arriaga were killers. Jesse was right, he couldn't just stand by and Steve wouldn't expect him to. But this time when they rescued Steve he would be there, right there, to bring him home. That determination broke through his despair and he gave himself a mental shrug. He knew he wasn't himself and wouldn't be until his son was safe, but he had to get back to the video screening, Steve was counting on him and this time he wouldn't let him down.

ooo

"Amanda?" He had said her name over and over during the night and by using that, along with picturing his father and Jesse, had managed to stop his panic from overwhelming him. As the sun had come up he straightened himself out and gradually, stopping each time the pain got too much, managed to use the chain which had held her to pull himself to his feet but still he didn't know what had happened to her. There was blood on the floor by the cuffs she had worn and he had no way to tell whether it was his or Amanda's.

Finally he realised that he must have been out cold when Melosa had come back and taken Amanda the previous day. How could he face his dad or Jesse if she had been killed? And Ron, Steve let out a groan, the FBI man would be suffering more than he would ever let on just because she was missing, if she was dead, then Steve knew that Ron would die too, little by little, until he was no longer the man any of them would recognise as their friend.

Standing up, and the extra pain it caused him, was making Steve grow dizzy but he refused to sit, or collapse to the floor, he had to think this through. For a moment though he leant his head against the wall of the room and as he did so he felt something underneath his bare foot. Carefully he looked down and there, by his toes, was a clump of her hair, the rich dark brown tresses shone, even in the dusty light of the room, and a lump came up in his throat. Melosa had taken Amanda away and killed her. She'd shot a cop in cold blood, killed Denise Steiner's assistant, as well as the young woman who had scared him so at the hospital. The police officer inside of him knew that she would have no qualms about killing Amanda.

The knowledge that he was responsible for the death of one of his best friends' was the final piece of information that his shattered being could cope with and, despite the agony they caused him, his tears came again and then he fell to the floor calling out her name as he did so.

ooo

Cheryl had checked back with the switchboard of the hospital and discovered that Doctor Sloan had called his son just after twelve noon the previous day. She knew that he had left the station almost immediately and that it took approximately twenty minutes to get to the parking lot of Community General if the traffic was good. It had been the beginning of the lunch hour though and so she thought probably more like a journey time of three quarters of an hour. The ER records showed that the officer from the parking lot who, she knew, was called Harry Rimett, had been treated by Doctor Martin at a little after ten past one but there was no proof, apart from the tape, to show how long he had lain undiscovered and unattended. He was now in the ICU his recovery still by no means guaranteed but he was alive and she knew Alex was hopeful he would survive.

Bill had listened to the maths and then nodded. "Ok, let me fast forward this. The time and date is in the right hand corner of the screen, at the bottom, see?"

They did see and, as the two law enforcers watched, the figures rushed by until finally, when Bill pressed the pause button, it said twelve eighteen. "That's close enough. I'll run it through at high speed until we see something interesting then I'll slow it up. Let's go."

The comings and goings of one section of the parking lot came up in front of them. Cheryl's call to the ER had also got the exact location where the young officer had been found. Now all eyes were on that part of the hospital grounds as every vehicle was scanned for a driver who looked like the picture which, Bill noticed, the slightly menacing FBI agent held tightly in his hand.

Cheryl had excused herself from the screening party for a couple of minutes to keep in touch with her Captain who had been calling every quarter of an hour since she had left the station that morning to continue with the search.

"There, that green BMW has a woman driver." Ron pointed at the screen and they all looked closely as the tape slowed, but seemed to deflate as an obvious blonde climbed out and then disappeared from the shot.

The silence returned as the cars and figures sped back up until they looked like something from an old black and white movie. Ron was getting more and more frustrated and wasn't sure that he could watch very much more of this in company when the door opened quietly and Mark and Jesse came back into the room.

"Hi, guys, how's it going?" Mark's voice sounded almost as it usually did and Jesse smiled a relieved smile as he watched him take up his place in front of the monitors.

"Nothing yet, but it was lunch time he might have still been travelling." Cheryl could see that Mark had pulled himself back together and she looked at Jesse. She was getting more and more impressed with how he behaved under pressure. Now wasn't the time to mention it though and so the room once again descended into silence until the figures were showing a few seconds before one o'clock when a large black SUV pulled into a parking space just on the perimeter of the camera's range. This time as the film slowed down there could be no mistaking the driver of the car and the tension in the room seemed to increase enormously.

No one spoke and in the stillness the clock in the right hand corner of the screen carried on changing until at 1:05.23 a black and white police car drew up in the centre of the shot and the driver and passenger side doors opened. All eyes remained glued to the screen as Melosa Arriaga stepped up by the side of Officer Rimett and they saw Steve climb into the SUV and disappear before the young cop fell and the gun went off.

It took a few seconds before Bill was able to lean forward and rewind the tape back to the beginning of the scene again. This time he slowed it right down to show the film frame by frame and all of them realised at the same moment that, when she parked, Melosa had left the licence plate of the vehicle clear for them to see.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven**

Steve had no idea how long he lay on the floor letting the desperation he felt take a firm hold on him. He had thought that he was getting over what she had done to him, was beginning to take the first steps back to a normal life again, but he had been so wrong.

He had been on auto-pilot since Amanda had been taken, he knew that now. The way that he had slept and then gone and done the photo-fit session the previous day was testament to that fact and Steve doubted whether he could actually remember very much of the detail of either thing right now.

He pushed the thoughts away from him, and tried to work out what to do next. Part of him wanted to die too if he had caused Amanda's death and he knew to accomplish that all he had to do was stay put. Melosa would kill him just as surely as she had killed his friend. But if he died then what would that do to his dad?

"Dad."

The one word echoed around the room and the sob that followed almost caused him to stop breathing. His left hand was clenched against both the physical and mental pain he was suffering and for a while that overpowered all the other emotions which were fighting for supremacy of his being.

"Well, good morning. My, my, how did you get yourself all the way over here?" She was suddenly back with him and he felt himself being hauled to his feet.

"Arghhh, no … please, God, no." The plea escaped him before he could stop it and, as his right arm swung in agonising freedom, he heard her reply come in the form of a laugh.

"Well, well, Lieutenant, are you finally learning who's in charge? I think you may be." She took a step back so that she could see her prisoner a little more clearly. He was sweating and breathing faintly. There was a pain in his face, in his eyes, which went deeper than that from any treatment she had dealt out to him and she knew he was closer to breaking point now than he had been even in the middle of Death Valley.

"So, did you miss me? She leant in and kissed him on the lips and smiled as he tried to turn from her. There was still a little fight left in the man yet.

"'Manda, what … what did you do …?" He trailed off, the question dying on his lips.

"Your friend?" Melosa saw tears start in his beautiful blue eyes and realised with a rush of excitement that he had no idea what had happened. She had thought that he was conscious when she had dealt with the Bentley woman, she must have been mistaken. How delicious this could be.

"Just … just tell … me … is she … dead?"

The last word was almost impossible to hear but Melosa knew what it was and she ran a finger down his face.

"I thought it would be a good idea to have two hostages, I was wrong. She was taking your attention away from me, and I am the only one you should be thinking about. So she had to go. Now, Baby, it's just you and me again, like it was before." She ran her hand around behind him, weaving her fingers into his hair so that she could bring his head closer to her own and then she began to kiss him and, as his heart cried for Amanda, he had no way to stop her.

ooo

"I'll take this back to the station and get it enhanced." Cheryl reached for the video tape and was surprised to see Mark's hand take it first.

"No need, we have a machine that can do the job just as well, if not better than yours and we are right here, no delays because of traffic or other cops using it. Follow me."

Mark clapped Bill on the shoulder, looked right through Mr Jenkins who had moved a little closer to the action, and then left the room with Ron, Jesse and Cheryl following him. They arrived at the elevator just in time for Mark and Cheryl to enter and Jesse and Ron were left to wait for the next one.

"Is he gonna be alright?" Ron looked down at the smaller man beside him and marvelled again at how strong he appeared.

"No, probably not, not if we don't get them back today or if all the leads run dry. But while he has something to do, then yeah, he's gonna be just fine."

"And if the worst happens, then what?" Ron didn't really want to think of that possibility himself but he felt he had to ask.

"Then I'll be here for him, just like he would for me. But right now the worst happening isn't an option I'm willing to consider." The conviction in Jesse's voice made Ron realise that the young man had thought about it but wasn't ready to throw in the towel just yet. Somehow that knowledge made him feel a whole lot better.

The bell for the elevator pinged then and Jesse and Ron walked inside it. The moment was past but Ron knew that whatever happened the young man with him would handle it; he would handle it just fine.

ooo

Steve had collapsed against his captor, unable to hold himself upright any longer and she had taken it as a sign to kiss him again, this time on his cheek, his neck and then on his lips once more making sure each time that she left her mark. Inside himself he was begging for her to stop as well as screaming at himself to do something to make her cease. Finally it was the cry of pain that he was unable to contain which made her once again step away from him and, as he sagged against her, he felt reality slip a little.

The next thing that he knew he was back on the floor, but leaning up against the wall with his right arm in his lap and Melosa was giving him water from a sports bottle. As much as he wanted to turn from it he knew that he had to accept the offer and he swallowed it down as fast as she would allow.

"That's better. I can't have you dying on me … not yet anyway." She moved the bottle away so that it was just out of Steve's reach and then as he watched, her demeanour changed before him.

"Do you think your father will find you in time, Lieutenant?"

"Yes … he will … and Jess … they'll try … they … will … try." His position on the ground was causing the pain in his chest to increase and it was getting even harder to breathe than it had been when he was standing up. The area of his chest and abdomen where the whip had crashed into him was livid with bruises now and each one showed the criss-cross pattern of the leather bindings which he could see on the weapon that he realised was swinging from her belt.

His eyes must have rested upon it for a second or two too long because suddenly she picked it up and carefully unhooked it.

"This is my baby now. Your friend, the Fed, he killed my babies, but you remember them don't you, darling? You remember my two lovely babies and Dimi, do you remember Dimi?" To his horror she put her fingers into her mouth and whistled and he knew that the large bloodhound would soon be in the room with them.

"No …" He couldn't even think about the dogs without breaking out in cold sweat. Even ordinary dogs scared him now, but not quite as much as Melosa's. "Please, don't."

"But I've been working so hard with Dimi. He was so docile, so soppy, but he's coming along, now he needs more than the thrill of the chase, now the kill excites him too." On these terrifying words the large dog lumbered into the room and sat at his mistress's feet.

"You recognise the Lieutenant don't you, Sweetie? We've been practising using his shirt for almost three weeks now. Sniff round him my sweetheart, that's it. Dimi, scent."

Just the words frightened him. He was as unable to move away from the dog as he had been the last time when he was attached to the wall. Then he had felt scared but had realised the dog meant him no harm. This time he had no such feeling, because this time, as he snuffled around him, Dimi let out a low and menacing growl and Steve's panic and terror grew until he couldn't stop the shaking which racked his body, causing his pain levels to increase until finally, he lost contact with his senses, with reality, and he slid into the welcoming darkness.

ooo

The computer in the imaging suite didn't work with videos and so Jesse had rushed the tape back to Bill who had the equipment to transfer the information they needed onto a floppy disc. Once that was done it had been a simple task to get a clear picture of the licence plate they were interested in, and an even simpler one to discover the owner of the vehicle.

It hadn't come as a surprise to any of them to find out that the SUV had been stolen, but the fact that it had been taken from three doors down from the beach house had definitely raised the tension in the room. Jesse had begun keeping a very close eye on Mark again as the realisation set in that Melosa had been that close without them even realising it.

"So it was her." Mark had sat down in the doctor's lounge after the information on the car had been received and Jesse had instantly done the same.

"What? Who was her?" He was a little confused and Mark realised that his friend hadn't been in the same part of the beach house when Steve first thought he saw Melosa.

_The sun had been pleasantly warm as they had sat out on the deck enjoying just being together on the first complete day they had both spent at home. Mark watched his son's every move but he could tell that now he was comfortable on the lounger Steve's pain was manageable and he didn't need to mention it._

_There were so many things that he wanted to say, but for once he didn't know where to begin. The image of his son in a hospital bed, so helpless and sick, and the knowledge that he had been responsible for the conditions which put him there, had been unable to even help treat him, weighed heavily on his soul and there were times when he didn't think he would ever get past it._

_The journey back in the helicopter was supposed to have been a relief. He was getting closer and closer to his son with every second, but he had been so scared that it hadn't seemed that way at all. What if he had changed his mind? Jesse had said that Steve was desperate to see him, but that had been the day before. What if, in the meantime, he had realised just how much of his pain was his father's fault and changed his mind?_

_That hadn't happened; he should have known it wouldn't. His son was far too generous a person to ever do that, but still he knew, inside himself, that he had a lot to make up for._

_"Son?"__ The one word had been all he had got out before he heard Steve gasp, first in shock and then in pain. "Steve, what is it?"_

_"There …" His son was pointing out towards the sand. "No, not here … please, not here." Steve had started to hyperventilate and Mark, knowing that he could do very little to help him, had paged Jesse who had been watching TV in Steve's part of the house, not wanting to intrude on what he had told Mark was a father, son time._

_Steve had been almost non-responsive when the younger doctor arrived on the deck and the moment had passed without an adequate explanation of what had happened, so intent were both men on getting Steve back with them. Steve hadn't mentioned it again, but after he had retired to bed later that day the nightmares had started._

"He thought he saw Melosa?" Jesse was enlightened now as to what Steve had mentioned when he had been in the hospital after the incident in the elevator. "Did he say where?"

"When I said goodnight to him, he apologised to me, said that he had seen a black haired woman walking across the dunes. I saw her too, but I never made the connection. He could have been right couldn't he?"

"I guess he could." Jesse paused for a moment before asking a question which had been concerning him. "Mark, those things that you told me before, did you ever tell him?" Jesse spoke gently, this he realised, was dangerous territory.

"No." Mark looked down at his feet as he spoke.

"Why not?" Jesse had a feeling that Mark would be coping with things far better if he had actually voiced his problems to Steve.

"Because I was ashamed." His voice was hushed and Jesse strained to hear it.

"Ashamed? Whatever for? Mark, you are the most important person in Steve's life, just as he is in yours. Sure you drive each other nuts sometimes, and there are days when you definitely prefer each other's space to their company, but he would never have blamed you for anything that happened, you know that."

"But I blame myself. Look at him, Jess, he still lives at home, he gets ribbed at work because his daddy goes everywhere with him, gets kidnapped because of me, gets almost killed, because of me, and then gets taken again, because of me, me, me!"

"Mark, stop it. Steve still lives at home for a lot of reasons, not least because he likes the landlord. He could quite easily shut you out of his cases, but he doesn't, and there is no way in the world that he would blame you for Melosa Arriaga."

Mark had heard all the arguments before, but somehow this time, as he looked at his son's best friend, the sincerity in the young man's eyes made him realise that everything he was saying was true. His son was still such a huge part of his life because he, Steve, not he, Mark, wanted it to be that way.

ooo

When he woke again Steve found that he was once again tied up but this time the agony had been increased because Melosa had finally cuffed his right wrist as well. The only good thing that he could think of was that the dog was nowhere to be seen.

The position he was in not only caused him pain but confusion and he tried to concentrate his mind on how he was actually held. He had worked out before that the room he was in had once been used for storage and maybe actually for loading and unloading goods but he hadn't taken in any more than that. Now though, as he fought for control of his mind, if not his body, he began to look around him as much as he could to try and figure out a little more about where he was.

The area of the room where he had been held had been perfectly plain and clear, although there had been plenty of dust and debris; and Steve had a feeling that the restraints put there for him and, on the other side of the room, for Amanda had been added by Melosa herself.

The vision of his beautiful and gentle friend chained to the wall rose up in his mind and he felt the tears he refused to shed for her just yet threaten him. He moved an inch and his right shoulder screamed out in protest, and Steve knew that if he ever got away he would be on desk duty for weeks before it healed again.

For a minute or two he concentrated his mind on his work. He was a cop, one of LA's finest, he would beat this, he would be found and she would not win. The comfort of his own thoughts helped him to rally a little and gradually he raised his head to see what it was his wrists were attached to above his head.

There was a window to his left and he could see out through it down onto what appeared to be dock land. The metal framework that he was attached to came into the building fairly high up near the ceiling and was shaped as almost an elongated square letter 'C' from one side of the window frame to the other and looked as if it would, in a previous existence, have had bags of grain or flour hung from it as they were either brought mechanically into the building from the dock or taken down from it to the ships. Now, it had him and, with his feet just an inch off the ground, he was as helpless as if he had been in one of those sacks.

He knew that there must be a reason for Melosa having placed him where she had, but at the moment that escaped him. He wasn't sure how long he could actually remain conscious in this position but while he was he tried to work out whether there was a way he could use the window to make his escape.

Steve was hanging at the very end of the track before it began to bend round and the hooks which had held the sacks had long since disappeared. Now the rail looked like it might hold a shower curtain, and for a moment the thought crossed Steve's mind that it must have been almost impossible for Melosa to get him up into this position. Tentatively Steve moved just a little bit and felt the pain course through him. Then knowing that the only way to move along the track would cause him to lose consciousness he prepared to abuse his body almost more than his captor had done and forced himself upwards jumping along the rail about six inches before he made contact with it once more, screaming in agony and passing out again as he did so.

ooo

"I've got an APB out on the car, and I don't care if the Queen of England is driving it, we'll still find it and bring it in." Cheryl had been on the phone to Captain Newman filling him in on all that had been accomplished so far that day, but now she was back where she wanted to be, with her friends, making sure they found her partner. She had to admit that from a seemingly hopeless situation when they had heard about the second kidnap, roughly twenty four hours earlier, things had gotten considerably brighter.

"The people working the docks haven't reported anything of significance yet, but it'll be quitting time for some shifts in about a half hour and I've got cars from North Hollywood down there to help the Harbor guys keep an eye on all the vehicles. They are gonna do a stop and search, except they won't just be searching they'll be showing too; the picture of Arriaga as well as one of Steve. If anyone saw them go into the docks yesterday we will find them, Mark."

"The chopper is available now so we can go up if you want." Ron had been on the phone as well, chewing out the guys who had been supposed to provide him a helicopter first thing that morning. He had calmed down a little when he learnt that it had been in the shop and was now fuelled up and ready to go.

"What are we waiting for?" Again as action began to take place Mark raised his game and was on his feet and ready to follow Ron out into the hallway before Jesse even realised that the next stage of the operation was about to begin.

ooo

"What exactly are you looking for?" The voice over the headphones belonged to the agent piloting the FBI chopper and Ron raised his eyes skywards as he began to explain things. He had a feeling that some of the training he would be giving to these guys would include basic communications.

"We're looking for an area of the docks which has chains, trains, trucks and birds, sea gulls to be precise."

"Oh well, that's easy then, why didn't you say so before?" The pilot, who hadn't taken his eyes off the skyline the entire time he spoke, had no idea of the reactions his words were causing the now almost seething agent sitting directly behind him.

"If it's so easy maybe you would like to share it with the rest of us." Ron's voice exploded outwards through gritted teeth and the pilot started a little in his seat.

"Yes, Sir, sorry, Sir. We need to concentrate our search along the Alameda Corridor."

"Of course we do. Why didn't we think of that?" Jesse snapped his fingers but Mark, Cheryl and Ron could tell from his voice that it was just dripping with sarcasm. "What is the Alameda Corridor?"

"It's the rail and road improvement programme which was completed in 2002. Over one hundred trains a day reduce traffic and the twenty mile long system allows for faster locomotives, thus reducing damaging emissions."

"And this concludes our public awareness advertisement." Jesse laughed but then caught Ron's eye. "Sorry. How do you know that?"

"My father was one of the designers, and I guess I did sound like a commercial, I'm sorry too." Just for a moment the young pilot turned away from the front of the chopper and Jesse could see the blush on his cheeks.

"No problem. Your knowledge and your dad's system should make finding Steve a whole lot easier. Thanks."

The Port of Los Angeles rose up before them and as Ron and Cheryl looked out of one side of the chopper Mark and Jesse did the same the other. "My God, there are miles of it. However will we find them in time?" Mark's voice had regained the despondence of the previous day and he felt Jesse squeeze his arm as he began to speak.

"We'll find them because we're the good guys, Mark, and the good guys always win."

ooo

He had no idea how long or how many times he had been out, but the return to consciousness each time had not been a pleasant experience. The muscles in his left shoulder had joined in the cacophony of pain inside his mind and he remembered belatedly that he had damaged that one too when the dogs had attacked him in Death Valley. He shook the memory away, that alone was enough to cause him to give up altogether. He was almost at the window, one more jump should do it and then, after he had recovered from that, he would think about what do to next. This time the distance covered wasn't as long and he was able to rest his now aching head against the cool brickwork while his body began its recovery all over again. He hadn't blacked out either, but the amount of pain he was in made him wonder whether that was a good thing or not.

He had become aware of a strange noise in the distance as he had begun his journey and now that he had finally made it as far as he could Steve listened intently, trying to work out what it was.

The dust which covered the glass made the room darker than it would normally be with a window the size of the one he was now next to. In a moment of total lucidity Steve was sure that it used to be a hole in the wall when it was a working warehouse instead of a window. The area outside that he was finally seeing seemed to be quite deserted and, for a few moments, he wasn't sure which way to look to try and see if he could spot what he was searching for.

Steve knew now that he was in the Harbor district of LA. He didn't think he knew any cops from there and he hoped that wasn't a bad sign. The building he was in seemed to tail of in a sort of arc although there was something wrong with its shape as it curved around. There was movement at the far end, just at the limit of his eye line and when he finally did see the cause of the noise Steve thought his heart would stop. About three, maybe four sections of warehouse down from where he was a large wrecker's ball was demolishing the building.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight**

"You are very resourceful, my love. Every time I leave you somewhere I find you some place else when I return." Melosa's voice cut into Steve's suffering and made him jump. The movement sent his agony rocketing skyward and he cried out again. No one he'd ever met had reduced him to such a state, and he knew that she had come the closest to wiping him out but he also knew that she wasn't finished yet. He didn't want to plead with her, to even speak to her, but if she moved him away from the window there was no way he would ever be able to make the journey back to it again.

"Don't … please … don't move me." The weakness he was showing no longer infuriated him, nor the tears which filled his eyes, anger and desperation were emotions which used a lot of energy and he knew that he had very little of it left.

"Why would I move you? This way you will see your death as it comes to meet you. That's a far better ending than even I had thought of. I wish I could be here to see it, but don't worry, I've mailed a letter to your friends so they'll know where to find your broken body. It's such a shame that this is goodbye but your father needs to suffer as I have suffered. He will know that you died afraid and alone, no longer a hero but a terrified remnant of a man. Dimi heel."

Steve heard the tapping of claws on the wooden floor and his fear increased until he felt it could go no higher, but immediately discovered he was wrong. The next thing he heard was an even more ominous sound as the large ball from the wrecker plunged into the building next but one to his own, twisting his heart and gut as it did so and he heard the dog yelp in fear.

"Shhh, Baby, Dimi, shhh. He will stay until I call him off, Lieutenant. The end is getting closer, my darling, I wonder how long it will be."

A set of steps, or something similar, was put in front of him and Melosa climbed up so that she was level with his face. She placed her lips against his own and, running her hands through his hair, kissed him before biting on the lower one and smiling as he gasped. Looking directly at her he could see the evil in her eyes but had no time to prepare himself before the whip made contact with his body again and again, splitting the taut skin, causing him to jerk against his bonds and he felt his right shoulder separate itself from his arm as his vision blurred, his stomach heaved and his screams were ripped from him.

"I have to leave now. Do you wish me to take Dimi as well?"

"Yes … please take … take him." He could feel the hot breath of the dog on his bare feet and even that non-threatening action was causing him to panic and hyperventilate.

"I might, if I feel that you don't need him. Tell me, Lieutenant; were you wrong to persecute my brother?"

"N … no … he … he killed … arghhh!" He felt a hand on his chest and then he was swinging free. His feet kicking at the dog's head as he moved, causing it to growl at him.

"Were you wrong, Lieutenant? Dimi, scent."

The dog leapt at him and Steve cried out, "Yes …! Yes, I was wrong … oh, God, stop … please … stop." Steve prayed for darkness, for a return to the unconsciousness, which had kept him going before, but nothing happened except that the weight of the dog pushed him far enough back that its paws scraped down his chest and then he swung forward again. The scream that resulted took almost all of his remaining energy and he knew that he was a beaten man.

"So, you deserve to die. For what you have done to Mando you deserve to die. I have defeated you."

There was silence in the room apart from the heavy breathing of the bloodhound and his prey, and then she was back in his face again. "Say it! Say that I have won, that Mando has won. Tell me that we have defeated you."

"No …" He could only utter the one word and she didn't have to do anything other than rest her hand on his shoulder and his world exploded with pain again. The scream that left him was answered only by the seagulls and he collapsed shaking, as his arms took his entire weight, and wished for a mercifully quick end to his suffering.

"Say it!"

"Dad … I'm so … sorry." He couldn't even bring a picture of his father up in front of him in his mind and it was then that he realised it was all over and he gave her what it was she wanted. "You … you … h … have … defe … defeated me …."

ooo

"Who would've guessed that black SUV's were so popular?" Cheryl shook her head as she finished listening to a report on her headset. "They've stopped twenty-six, and all of them have been legit. Two had bald tires but that's all we've got so far."

"What time is it?" Mark didn't even look down at his own watch but threw the question out to the rest of his companions, not wanting to take his eyes from the scene through the doorway of the chopper.

"Half past ten, why?" Jesse checked and then returned his gaze to the window trying with all his might to see where the chain with the hook on the end might be. It needed to be close to trains, he'd seen both but not together, or together but not near enough to a road to hear trucks. The seagulls he was ignoring; they swooped and called all over the docks and just because they had been audible when Amanda was on the phone didn't mean they would be in the same spot right now.

"Just wondered." Mark had needed to hear his own voice, to know that he was still able to form coherent sentences, but all he could think of had been to ask a simple question.

"Sir, do you want me to sweep again?" The voice of the pilot, who had worked in silence since Jesse's quip about commercials, seemed almost timid and, as Ron barked back at him, Jesse could understand why.

"You keep going until I say stop."

"Yes, Sir."

"What?" Cheryl's headset crackled into life and suddenly all eyes were on her. "Where …? Ok, guide me to it, no don't, put it through the FBI headsets, let the pilot have it directly." She listened and when her own earphones were silent Cheryl turned to Mark. "We've got her."

ooo

Although they were in a fast moving helicopter it had taken over ten minutes to reach the area where the black SUV containing Melosa Arriaga had been spotted.

There wasn't a suitable landing place and so the young pilot, who had finally told Jesse he was called Justin Margolis, had found the closest empty lot to put down in. Cheryl and Ron had sprinted towards their target as soon as their feet hit the ground but both of them froze momentarily as they heard the sound of raised voices and then gunfire before Ron took over the lead position, his own gun drawn and ready, with Cheryl behind him and Justin silently joining them to take up the rear.

By the time that Jesse and a slower than usual Mark arrived at the scene they could see that the woman was laying on the ground with cops, their weapons trained on their target, surrounding her. There was another gun just out of reach which, Mark presumed, had belonged to Melosa.

"Doctor Travis, we need you here!" Cheryl's voice shook him from his transitory stupor and he crouched down by the woman who had tried to destroy the life of those he held most dear.

"Doctor … Travis … think you can … save me?" Her voice was raspy and Jesse could see the blood soaking the left side of her shirt. He felt for a pulse and wasn't surprised when it was irregular beneath his fingers.

"Mark, I need my bag." Jesse had placed a hand over the wound, applying pressure and trying to forget that he had nothing to protect himself with as he did so.

"No, Jess, let her suffer!"

"Mark! She's our only hope of finding them. I need my bag."

"Don't bother … Doctor … it won't … help."

"Where is my son?" Mark shouted the words, barging his way in front of Jesse and shaking Melosa by the shoulder.

"Mark!" Jesse moved a little closer to his friend, shocked to see the violence he was dishing out to the woman in front of them.

"Jesse, back off." Mark made contact with Jesse's chest, pushing the surprised young man and, as he removed the pressure from the wound, he staggered until Ron's strong hands stopped him from falling.

"I asked you a question." Mark moved closer so that he was almost touching Melosa's face with his own. "Where is my son?"

Melosa smiled and seemed to grasp a new strength from somewhere, "Dead, by now … Doctor Sloan … Too bad that you were just … too late to save him. But don't worry … I've sent … you a letter telling … you where you can find their bodies ... Maybe you will be able … to piece him back together, you be … ing a doctor an' all."

Mark's moved as if to strike the woman but, as Jesse and Cheryl both stepped forwards to stop him, he realised what he was doing and let his arm fall to his side.

"We beat you … Doctor Sloan, Mando and I beat you." Melosa coughed and her face clouded with pain as blood spat out onto Mark's shirt. "Your son ack …nowledged that fact before … before he died … and you will … too."

"Amanda? Where is Doctor Bentley?" Ron moved to crouch next to Mark, he knew that the older man was suffering but so was he and he needed to know where his love was more than he had needed to know anything in his entire life.

The smile that spread across Melosa's face made him wish that Mark had slapped her and Ron clenched his own fists so that his emotions wouldn't get the better of him. "Where is she?"

"You people … are so boring, asking …me the same questions over and over. She is … dead too, and such a shame because … she really thought I was going to free her. Poor stupid … girl." She moved a little, crying out in pain as she did so and Jesse edged closer, readying himself to treat his patient, but his professional ethics fought with the knowledge that if her words were true he really didn't want to help her at all.

"Were … did they?" For a moment Mark couldn't continue but he needed to know one more thing. "Were they together?"

"Oh no. That would have been … far too kind, and I just wasn't feeling kind today. I separated … them, promised her …" again she coughed and her fists clenched against a spasm of pain. Jesse tried to get back to treating her. He knew that she was badly hurt and almost certainly dying and he felt obligated to help her despite what she had done.

With a wheezy gasp Melosa began to speak again. "She thought … that she would be freed … that she would be able … to go back to her … children, she believed me and … left him alone to … suffer and die. And then she suffered and … died … too ... Life can be so cruel. I hope you … realise what you have done, Doctor Sloan, their … deaths are on your … conscience." The last word trailed away and as it did so Melosa shuddered, blood bubbled from the corner of her mouth, her eyes rolled in her head and she was still. Mark placed a hand on each shoulder and shook her.

"Where …? Where is he? Where is … my son? Answer me … please, God, answer me … where's Steve?" Mark's pleads turned into heaving heavy sobs and Cheryl gently put her arms around him as she and Ron led him a little way off to where Justin was standing, feeling a definite outsider; then she turned to watch the other doctor check her prisoner.

Jesse felt for a pulse but found nothing. He looked towards the group of people staring at him and shook his head.

For a moment there was silence as a multitude of emotions fought for supremacy. The woman had tortured and probably killed those that they held most dear, she had deserved to be killed too, but they were no closer to finding them and so she had had no right to die.

Jesse had been watching Melosa as she taunted Mark and he had seen that she kept trying to look over to her left, as if waiting for something to happen. There had been a lot of noise while she had been talking, and all of it seemed to be coming from the general direction that Arriaga had a fascination with. Suddenly he knew that if he followed her gaze he would find what it was they had been looking for and maybe, just maybe, Melosa's final act would have been to point the way to Steve and Amanda.

"Ron, Mark, they're this way." Jesse looked around in desperation, he had a rough idea where he wanted to be, but not an exact location, he needed a car.

There were two black and whites as well as a black sedan parked on the roadside and, reading his thoughts, Ron pointed at the obviously FBI vehicle. "That one."

"I'll deal with this and then find you." Cheryl leant into the first car and pulled the radio handset towards her as she spoke and then, as she began to call in, the four of them continue their frantic search.

ooo

Jesse had cleaned off his hands as soon as he got in the car before turning his attention to finding his friends. He had given up looking out of the window almost immediately and, opening the sunroof, had stood up and poked his head through the gap. The morning traffic had died down a little bit but Justin, now the driver rather than the pilot, knew the urgency of the journey and was weaving through what cars there were while his passengers scoured the landscape for what they were looking for.

The sound of a loud collision suddenly filled the air and Jesse, being in the best position to see what had caused it, felt his entire world stop.

"My God …" For a moment his words were almost a whisper but then the urgency of the moment took over and he spoke a little louder. "It's not a hook on a chain it's a wrecker's ball. There, that block there. We have to stop that demolition!"

The car screeched to a halt and all four occupants were out of it almost before the doors were open. Ron, gun in hand, and his fellow agent, scoured the area looking for a foreman or someone to approach but, seeing no one, made their way instead towards the large crane which was causing all the damage.

"Hey!" Ron called out as loudly as he could, but the driver of the heavy equipment, which was fitted with a huge hydraulic crane device attached to an equally huge metal ball, was protected not only by his cab but by ear defenders.

Ron leapt up onto the caterpillar tracks and banged on the Perspex but still got no reply and both he and Agent Margolis watched in horror as the ball completed an arc and smashed into the side of the building causing the area it hit to collapse inwards, leaving only one complete section standing, and then part of that roof fell, almost as an afterthought, from the initial hit. Finally, with a noise which sounded suspiciously like a growl, Ron wrenched open the door which got the man's attention.

"What the hell?" He swung round in his seat ready to pounce until he saw the gun pointing right at him.

"FBI. Turn the machine off."

"What?" The man screamed at him and Ron, looking far calmer than he actually felt, pointed to the ear protectors and then took his ID from his pocket.

Pulling the defenders off, the man glared at Ron and then at Justin who was now peering in through the door.

"I said, FBI, turn the machine off. There are still people in that building."

"What? You're kidding me, right...? You're not kidding me. Man, that warehouse has been empty for like months. There's … my God, there's only one piece left! How can there be anyone in there?"

"Trust me. Now don't swing it again, ok?"

"Yes, Sir."

Ron was back on the ground in a single bound, sliding his wallet back into his pants as he made his way quickly back towards where Mark and Jesse were standing, buffeted slightly by the wind which whistled around the dock area, looking in shock at the building in front of them.

"Jesse, you're with me." He saw the shocked look on Jesse's face and paused for a moment, "We make a good team, remember? Margolis, stay with the doctor. Mark, I don't know what stuff Jesse has in that medical bag of his but I hope to God we're gonna need it. Can you get some sort of triage prepared and get on to Medivac?" He knew it was odd to be wanting someone to require medical treatment, but he also knew that if it wasn't needed then Steve and Amanda were indeed both dead and he couldn't let that possibility gain any credence.

"Yes, yes, I can do that. Jesse, find him … find Steve for me." He brushed back the tears and then turned to the tall FBI Agent. "Ron …"

"Yeah, Mark, I know." Ron couldn't let him finish the sentence; he had to keep the emotions in a separate space until later. Then, whichever way things fell, he would deal with them, alone. "Jesse, let's go!" The younger man needed no second call and together they rushed to the front of the building. As they ran in through the door the sound of bricks and debris falling seemed to surround them.

"I'm gonna start at the top, you start down here. "We'll meet in the middle." Jesse didn't wait for a reply but raced up the staircase that he had spotted off to his left, stumbling over the rubble as he went.

Ron watched him go and then, feeling more scared than he had in a long time, he hurried off into the main part of the building looking around desperately for any signs of life.

ooo

The staircase was full of dust and as the sun shone in through the windows on each level the particles played in its rays. Jesse tried to cover his mouth with his hand and shield his eyes to protect them from getting grit in them. He glanced about him on each landing but saw nothing until he reached the fourth level. The main wall was cracked from the now non-existent roof to the floor and, as he began to make his way into the room, he heard the sound of a train close by and more bricks and rubble fell around him.

When the dust cleared Jesse peered about and finally saw what he had been both desperately searching for and dreading finding. He could see the outline of a man, looking as if he was suspended in mid-air about ten feet in front of him.

"Steve! It's all right, I'm coming, Buddy, just hang on a minute or two longer. I'm coming." Jesse carefully made his way forward, but he had to stop almost within reach of his friend as he realised that the floor had cracked open and begun to fall away.

Gradually he backtracked and worked towards the middle of the room where the tremors had yet to cause major problems. Skirting the damaged area Jesse made his way round so that he was behind his friend and then moved in closer once more.

It became clear that Steve was hanging from a metal rail and that he was attached to it by handcuffs. For a moment Jesse was beaten, how would he get his friend down without the keys? He knew that the wrecker wouldn't hit the building again but he wasn't sure that it would be needed anyway. Bricks and rafters were either falling or creaking all the time and Jesse knew that if he couldn't get Steve free quickly he would have to leave him where he was or die with him.

A sob escaped Jesse as the awfulness of his situation hit home. Steve would be livid if he knew that he had died with him, but how could he leave him here and save himself?

"Think, Jesse, think. Doctor, intelligent being, best friend. Put the three together and save him, then get the hell out!" For a moment he considered pulling on Steve to test the strength of the rail, but realised that he didn't need to do that. Looking around he saw a set of steps leaning up against the outside wall just beyond where Steve was and, swallowing his fear, he edged towards them.

The gap through to the level below was at its widest just next to the legs of the ladder and, rather than put his entire weight on an area he wasn't sure would hold him, Jesse lay out flat and grasped them with both hands. Then he wriggled his way backwards, ignoring the pain caused by all the sharp and rough objects underneath him, until he was far enough away from the chasm to stand.

Carefully he set up his prize and began to climb it. There were only three steps and by the time he was standing on the top rung Jesse could see into his friend's face and he reached up and grasped the rail. As he let the metal take all his weight he accidentally caught the ladder with his feet and it fell through to the floor beneath. Knowing that he now only had one shot at freeing Steve, Jesse began to bounce, willing the wall to release its grip as he did so.

ooo

Agent Margolis hadn't worked with Ron Wagner for very long but he had learnt almost immediately that the man kept every feeling other than superiority and anger well hidden.

The look on his face as he exited the building with someone in his arms was one Justin hoped never to see on anyone's face ever again. Despair was written all over his colleague and, as he rushed over to help him, Justin could have sworn he saw the trail of a tear on the dust-covered face.

"Mark, she isn't breathing, I can't find a pulse. She … she was covered in rubble. It … it's falling from the floors above." Gently Ron laid the hopefully unconscious woman on the ground and then, with his fists clenched, he swallowed down his fears unable to tear his gaze away from the woman he loved.

Mark had been watching the building so intently that he hadn't seen Justin leave his side and rush to help Ron, but now he was galvanised into action and began to take the vital signs of his friend, hoping against hope that Ron was wrong and that somewhere, somehow, he would find a pulse.

ooo

The rail finally began to move when Jesse thought that his arms would come out of their sockets. He couldn't begin to imagine the agony that Steve must have gone through and it was easy to see that the right shoulder had been dislocated again. His upper torso was covered in cuts and marks and, knowing Melosa's previous history, Jesse was sure they were from a scalpel and a riding crop of some sort.

He pulled himself up as far as he could on the rail until his head was up above it and then kicking his feet against the air to try and give himself more power and energy Jesse forced himself downwards, crying out as his muscles screamed in protest. With a grating sound the metal finally came free from the wall and the two of them fell to the floor with Jesse pushing at Steve to keep him away from the gaping hole which would hasten their descent to the next level.

ooo

The pounding of his head told Jesse that he had probably knocked himself out as he landed, and the sudden need to turn away and heave into the dust confirmed it. For a moment he had no idea how he had arrived in the situation he found himself in and, as the room swum around him, he tried to gather his thoughts.

It was the gradual realisation that there was another body next to his own that finally hauled him back to reality and, with a feeling very close to despair, he reached over and placed his hand on his best friend's neck, sending up a silent prayer as he did so.

The pulse he found there could be described as thready at best but it was so welcome that Jesse had to swallow back tears, she had been wrong; Steve wasn't dead, now he just had to hope that Amanda was still alive also.

"Steve, you're gonna be safe real soon. We'll be out of here in a jiffy." Jesse's voice wavered a little as he spoke and as he finished his words he saw to his amazement that Steve was moving. "Steve! Oh, God, Steve, it's Jesse, come on, Buddy, look at me."

Although he didn't do as he was told Steve swallowed hard and then, in a voice laden with the dust and pain of his recent existence, he said just the one word. "Jess?"

The sound of another train going by and the resulting cascade of rubble tore Jesse's gaze from his friend and he realised that he had to somehow get Steve out of what could quite easily become a double grave. For a moment the magnitude of that task seemed totally beyond him and he closed his eyes and tried to marshal his failing strength. When he opened them again he saw that Steve had returned to his unconscious state and although he had been relieved to hear his voice he was even more relieved that Steve wouldn't know about the pain it would cause to move him.

"Doctor Travis!" The words seemed to echo all around him, and whether it was coincidence or not the debris increased.

"Don't … don't shout. Just help me." He had to shout himself and then Jesse held his breath as he waited for the next shower of bricks to hit. It didn't take long and this time a sharp piece of rafter made contact with his arm, piercing the skin and embedding itself in his flesh. As Jesse looked down to try and remove it he noticed for the first time that his body was scratched and bleeding, probably as a result of the fall from the rail, and he also realised that his right ankle and lower leg was resting at an angle which wasn't at all natural.

The sight of his leg caused the pain to reach its neural transmitters and suddenly he was bathed in sweat, knowing that there was no way that he would be able to carry his friend by himself. "Justin, please, hurry."

Jesse had no idea what was causing the room to sway, he hoped it was just his injuries, but when a large piece of floor disappeared in front of his eyes he knew that the building didn't have long left, and because of that neither did they.

This alarming prospect along with his desperate situation caused Jesse to lose a little of his grip on reality and so he almost jumped out of his skin as suddenly there was a voice next to him.

"Can you help me with him?" Justin was assessing the situation as he spoke and it didn't look good. He pressed his headset a little closer to his ear and began to speak into the microphone.

"This is Agent Margolis; I have them, but I'm gonna need back up, very careful backup, to get them both to safety." He looked down at the two men and knew that he had made the right decision to come into the building himself and that he was going to have to take them out one at a time.

"Steve … take him first." Jesse was feeling sicker as the moments passed but he knew what he had to do and, with a feeling of relief, he watched as the young man next to him nodded his agreement and carefully took Steve in a fireman's lift before beginning a slow and cautious descent to the ground.

ooo

The first Medivac helicopter had arrived just after Agent Margolis disappeared into the building. Mark had watched him for only a second before resuming his efforts to bring Amanda back to him. Between them he and Ron had begun CPR and hadn't paused until the gentle hands of the medics had carefully moved them away from her.

"We'll take over now, Sir. The other chopper is on its way, it'll be about five minutes." The man had begun to treat Amanda as soon as he could get to her and Mark, knowing that he was, for now, superfluous turned his eyes towards the building, counting the seconds until he saw Jesse and Steve come out.

"Mark … Mark!" Ron's voice cut into his desperate vigil and he turned haunted eyes towards the taller man. "I'm gonna go with them. I'll … I'll see you at Community General … and … and thank you." He couldn't say anymore and so, with one last lingering look at the dangerous building behind him, Ron climbed into the helicopter and took Amanda's hand in his own, rubbing it gently as the chopper took off, willing the warmth to return.

ooo

The journey down the stairs seemed far longer than the journey up them. Somewhere in the back of his mind as he travelled Justin could remember talking with his wife about how the distance home from somewhere always seemed shorter than the distance to get there in the first place. That wasn't the case right now. The picture of her face came up in front of him and he used it as a beacon to keep him going, to keep him taking one step after another, and then suddenly there in front of him was the exit, he could see a cloudless blue sky and the anxious face of Mark Sloan.

As soon as Justin became visible Mark rushed to his side and together they made the journey back to the temporary triage that the doctor had set up.

"Where's Jesse?" Mark looked around, expecting and needing to see the face of his young friend emerging from the building as well.

"He was injured; I have to go back for him. He's still on the top floor." As Justin spoke there was a rumble and a groan from the direction of the warehouse and the two men looked on in horror as the front of the building began to collapse inwards.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Chapter Nine**

The silence that followed the collapse of the wall was somehow worse than the original noise. For a moment neither Mark nor Justin moved but then, almost together, they were spurred into action and, after carefully laying Steve down on the ground, the young FBI agent turned, without a word, and rushed back the way he had just come.

"Justin … you have to wait … it isn't safe!" Mark called out, knowing that his son needed him, knowing that Jesse had to be saved but also knowing that he had to try and keep his companion with him until backup arrived.

"Mark, the wind is getting stronger by the minute. I have to get him before the whole building collapses." Justin paused just long enough to turn and explain his reasoning before continuing on his way. As he entered what remained of the warehouse again though he heard a voice and then a hard hat was passed to him.

"You'll need this." The voice was soft but full of authority and as he looked into the eyes of Detective Banks, Justin realised that he had desperately wanted company.

For a moment Mark was unable to even touch his son; he had been so sure Steve was dead that even when he had been lain down and the slight rising of his chest could be seen he still hadn't believed it.

Carefully, almost reverently, Mark reached out a hand and placed it on his son's bruised cheek and then, with a strangled sob, he began to evaluate his condition.

It was clear that the right shoulder was, once again, dislocated and Mark knew that this time there would be no manual replacement it would require surgery and extensive physical therapy. The shoulder though wasn't his main concern, the sound of his son's breathing was very worrying and he knew, just from experience, that there were broken ribs and possibly, once again, a punctured lung.

"Oh, Steve, look what she's done to you. I am so sorry, so very sorry." As Mark spoke he saw the wind tug at Steve's hair causing it to move softly and felt his son stir slightly then, with a groan which cut to the very heart of his father, Steve's eyelids fluttered and he looked up.

"Dad?" The word was faint, almost non-existent, but it was all Mark needed.

"It's alright, Son, it's alright. I'm here, this time I'm here."

Steve's face, which had been contorted with pain as he began to come to, relaxed completely and then he smiled. "I … I knew you … would be."

ooo

"Where is he?" Cheryl was glad that she and Justin could speak to each other through their headsets, that way they didn't need to shout, nor did they need to stop when they had something to say.

"Top floor or he was." Justin realised that, with the collapse of the front wall, there may well no longer be a fourth floor and so, as they reached the third level landing, he peered through the dust and sure enough he could see straight up to the clear blue sky above. "Dammit, here, he's gonna be in here somewhere."

It was obvious that Justin wasn't going to be able to just pick up Doctor Travis and remove him from the building like he had Steve Sloan. "We need a rescue helicopter. I'd use mine but it doesn't have a winch."

"I'm on it." Cheryl placed her hand over her ear, pushing the speaker closer to her head and, as Justin carefully made his way further into the room, he heard her requesting air assistance.

Jesse was lying amidst a pile of rubble and was, even from a distance, clearly unconscious. Justin knew that neither he nor the female detective had the experience to move him and so instead he gingerly edged closer and closer so that he could, at least, speak with the young man and hopefully get through to him that he wasn't alone.

ooo

"Detective, I want you to go down to the ground and wait for the chopper. This floor is already unstable, if I come back towards you it could give way, but if you join me I think it definitely will." Justin was feeling extremely vulnerable and he hoped that it didn't sound in his voice, but Cheryl had begun to make her way into the room after sending out her instructions for a Medivac chopper as well as other back up in case they needed it, and he didn't want to have to rescue her as well.

Cheryl looked across at the young agent and then the figure lying prone beside him. She wasn't that well acquainted with Jesse Travis, but what she did know of him she liked. The most important thing though was that he was Steve's best friend, and if Jesse died because he had saved Steve she knew her partner would never recover from the loss.

The sensible thing was to go down, to co-ordinate the rescue attempt from the ground, and so she nodded her head and turned away, but all the time felt she was running from the situation.

The relief that Justin felt when he saw Detective Banks do as he requested was enormous. He had cancelled his own request for back up knowing that there was nothing anyone could do to help without the assistance of a chopper. Now all he had to worry about was the unconscious man he had come to rescue and himself. Justin didn't know much about any of the people he was working with, but he did know that there was a bond between them which was as strong as steel. He hoped it would be enough to get them through.

The building suddenly shuddered and a shower of bricks cascaded down behind him. He instinctively lay over Jesse to protect him and said a silent prayer for a speedy end to their ordeal.

ooo

The sound of the helicopter was such a welcome one that Mark had to swallow down the sob which threatened to escape him. He hadn't had to treat his son at all and, although he would have done anything necessary to save Steve, he remembered what Jesse had had to do the last time and knew he would be eternally grateful for that.

The chopper would have the facilities aboard to enable any invasive work to be held off until they arrived at Community General. Mark could see the state in which his son had been left, not only all the awful wounds, which he didn't think he could focus on and stay objective, but also the dust and dirt that covered him. His son was still weak from the infection and injuries of his previous ordeal and Mark was already mentally working out what antibiotics he would prescribe when they were safely at the hospital.

Two medics arrived with their gurney and this time Mark was ready to step aside. He winced and gasped in pain as he stood up and a young woman, whom he thought he recognised but didn't know by name, took him by the arm.

"Are you alright, Sir?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, thank you."

"Good grief, what happened to him?" The second paramedic looked down at Steve and shook his head. "Been drinking maybe? Or drugs?"

Mark swallowed down his anger and began to list the injuries he was certain of. "The patient has multiple contusions, lacerations and rib and lung damage. There is also a dislocated shoulder and possible concussion. He regained consciousness briefly and was lucid."

"You're a doctor, right, do you know his name?" the younger of the two paramedics smiled as she spoke but didn't actually look up from where she was taking Steve's vital signs before, with her colleague, placing him on the backboard and carefully beginning to put him in a neck support.

"Yes, Doctor Mark Sloan, head of internal medicine at Community General, he's … he's my son and his name's Steve."

"Sorry, Doc." The male paramedic did look ashamed and Mark waved it away with his hand.

"Forget it. Just get him to the hospital so I can treat him." Mark was packing up the things from Jesse's medical bag as he spoke and so didn't see the look the two medics gave each other.

"Is there anyone else going back?"

"No, yes, no. I … I don't know. There's someone still inside. Maybe … we could … no … but I could …" Mark stopped talking; he wasn't making any sense anyhow and his dilemma wasn't making thinking easy either. It wasn't just someone in there, it was Jesse. Jesse, who had taken hold of the search for Steve twice and made sure that they succeeded. Jesse, who had kept both Steve and himself going, cajoling and even bullying to get them to take their first tentative steps to recovery. Jesse, who had made it easy for Steve to see a therapist, had tried to do the same for him, but he had just thrown it back in his face. He had been so selfish and caught up in his own worries and fears that he hadn't seen the offer for what it was – a genuine desire to help a friend.

The young woman, who appeared to be in charge, watched as the man in front of her seemed to battle with some inner demon. She understood his wish to stay and help the other person if he could, but she could also see his desperate need to go with his son.

"Sir, we have to get Steve to the hospital as soon as we can. Do you want to come or shall we go on ahead?"

The need to make a decision was almost causing him to cease functioning and Mark knew that if he didn't work it out quickly he would be getting medical attention himself. As he took a deep breath, hoping that it would help him to form a coherent answer, he saw Cheryl coming across to him and he turned towards her.

"Jesse? Where's Jesse?"

She paused for a moment, but then, understanding his dilemma, knew that only the truth would do.

"The floor collapsed, he went through from the fourth to the third level. Justin is with him and I just called for a search and rescue helicopter. We need a winch and a Stokes otherwise we aren't going to get him out."

"What injuries does he have?"

"Mark, I don't know. He isn't conscious, but Justin said he is breathing. There's rubble all around him and on him too. I'm sorry."

Mark looked at the beautiful young woman in front of him, the woman who had the unenviable task of keeping his headstrong and wilful son in check during his working hours and heard himself plead with her for advice. "I have to … what … Cheryl, what do I do?"

She didn't think that Mark had ever asked for her help in such a way and Cheryl felt her heart ache for him. Finally, after a few seconds, which seemed like hours, she knew what she had to say, and so, placing a hand on his arm, she began to speak.

"Mark, Steve needs you with him. Jesse won't be alone, not for a minute, I promise you that. And we'll bring him to Community General as soon as he's freed. But you need to leave, now."

For a moment the silence hung between them like a heavy velvet curtain but then Mark nodded his head and looked back to the two paramedics who had finished their preliminary work with Steve and were waiting to get him aboard the chopper.

"Tell him …" Again there was silence. What should he tell him? That he loved him like another son? That Steve saw him as more than a brother and needed him in his life? That he was sorry he'd left but he had no choice? That he couldn't die, because everyone's lives would be forever empty without him? Finally, he swallowed hard and looked at Cheryl with a sad smile, "Tell him I said I'll see him soon."

"Ok. Now go." Cheryl made scooting movements with her hands and smiled at him. She wanted to lean over and kiss his cheek, to let him know that everything would be fine, but she knew that she couldn't do that, not yet anyway.

Mark stopped for a second to glance back at the building which could have so easily been his son's tomb and still had the potential to be just that to Steve's best friend, as well as a young FBI agent, and then with a heart so heavy it was almost impossible to function he followed the gurney onto the chopper.

ooo

Ron Wagner had given up on the OR waiting room about ten minutes after Amanda had been rushed through to surgery. He couldn't sit doing nothing and so he had prowled the hallways for a while until a male orderly had asked him if he needed any assistance and he had been unable to answer.

In the end he headed out into the midday sunshine and, finding himself a seat in a shady area, tried to switch his mind off and forget where he was and why.

He had always been a loner but, after the death of his partner in an air disaster, he realised that he no longer wished to be alone. Amanda had been the first woman who understood the pressures he worked under, been the first to accept that dates would be broken, or interrupted, and been the first to wait for him when he had been assigned overseas.

He was willing to admit, at least to himself, that it had been a steep learning curve dating Amanda, but he knew that she had helped make him a better, more accessible and well-rounded person. He tried to imagine how he would have felt about the entire Melosa situation if he had just been the agent-in-charge but he couldn't do it. Instead all the worries and feelings of dread he had been suppressing since she was taken flooded to the surface.

The kidnap of Steve the first time around had deeply affected Amanda and he had threatened to resign if his two weeks vacation wasn't approved. They had spent a lot of the holiday just being an almost family. He had known CJ since he was a tiny child but Dion was still getting used to him and they had sort of skirted around each other for a while before the beginnings of acceptance had been seen.

Now though, as he sat in the sunshine, he realised, for the first time since he had been a child himself, that the security of a family appealed to him and the desperation he'd felt when he realised just who had taken Amanda became frighteningly real again.

Ron had seen some terrible things in his life, not the least of them the airplane crash which had brought Amanda and him together in the first place, but the treatment that Steve had endured at Melosa's hand had taken his understanding of man's inhumanity to man to new and unwelcome levels.

When he thought of his own beautiful and gentle woman being at the mercy of that monster he had no idea how to marshal his feelings and emotions. He had, for maybe the first time, understood a little of what Mark went through every time Steve put on his badge, went out to protect and serve, and didn't come back. The helplessness of the situation infuriated him and, as he looked down, Ron saw that his hands were held in tight fists.

He took a deep breath, consciously relaxing every muscle in his taut frame and then exhaled. Once he had done that three or four times Ron found he felt much more in control of himself again, and suddenly, as that feeling increased, he knew he had to get back to the OR, so that he could hear and face whatever news would be waiting for him there.

ooo

The sound of the chopper had filled Cheryl with a relief so deep that for a moment she was quite shaky. As a voice suddenly came through on her headset though she shook herself and waved her hand in the air to indicate that it was she who was speaking.

"This is Detective Banks. There are two men on the third level of the warehouse directly below you. One is injured and one isn't. You'll need to be extremely careful, the entire building is unstable and could collapse at any moment."

The reply was brief and business-like and, as she watched in silence, Cheryl saw the winch lower a paramedic down to where Justin and Jesse were waiting.

ooo

Justin had been feeling Jesse's pulse on and off for a little over ten minutes and he knew that it was getting weaker. Without moving the young man, he had been trying to see if there was a reason for the depressing fact but he had finally come to the conclusion that Jesse must be bleeding internally and was dying right in front of his eyes.

Cheryl's voice had told him suddenly, in a disembodied way, that the chopper would be arriving in five minutes and then, after the longest short period of time ever, he heard the sound of the rotor blades as they cut through the air.

The dust and debris in the warehouse was suddenly churned up, causing him to retch and cough while trying to shield both himself and Jesse from any further damage.

The arrival of another person right next to him was a cause for rejoicing and anxiety. Justin felt the floor move in a worrying way as a young man, roughly his own age, was deposited next to him with a medical pack that he immediately started to undo.

"Do you know his name?"

"Yes, it's Travis, Doctor Jesse Travis." Justin heard the young man gasp and looked up at him. "You know him don't you?"

"Yeah, yeah I do. He's a nice guy but man, he's been battered."

Justin looked at Jesse's face and, for the first time, realised that the fall had resulted in bruises and abrasions which had left him with a face that was swollen and, as the medic had said, battered.

"What happened to him?"

"He was rescuing a friend and the upstairs wall collapsed on top of him sending him down from the fourth level to the third."

"That was Steve, right?"

Justin nodded, now that he had looked closely at Jesse's face he didn't seem to be able to tear his eyes away from it. Finally though he turned his head slightly and watched as the paramedic, who had the nametag Christianson on his shirt, began to take his patient's vital signs and Justin was able to relax and hand over the care of the young man to someone who actually knew what they were doing.

"Jesse, can you hear me? Jesse, it's Tom Christianson. Steve's back at Community General, you saved him, Jesse, now it's time to save you." Tom spoke into his headset for a moment and then the distinctive outline of a Stokes stretcher appeared above them. It was lowered down and Justin shuffled back a little so as not to be an obstruction. As he did so the floor moved again, sending a shower of bricks and wood through to the level below and Jesse was suddenly balanced precariously on the edge of the precipice.

Cursing his stupidity Justin laid himself out flat and grabbed hold of the waistband of Jesse's jeans. It didn't solve the problem, and meant that if Jesse went over then so would he, but he had kept the man safe this long, he wasn't about to lose him now.

"We're gonna have to pull him back. I think that his right leg is broken, but it'll be a case of heave and hope." Tom Christianson's headset was obviously on the same wavelength as Justin's and the voice almost startled him into loosening his hold on Jesse.

Together, with Tom holding Jesse's right arm and Justin at his waist, the two men, one laying on the ground and the other kneeling, began to move Jesse away from the crevasse, gaping by his left side, inch by tiny inch.

The brick dust and cement were all around Justin now and he could taste them. His mouth was dry and his nose was full of the particles, which, he knew, covered every part of him. His head was starting to swim and each time he breathed in it caused a paroxysm of coughing which just increased his problems because it caused the dust to swirl around him even more.

The wind, which had been increasing steadily all day, was now making howling noises as it weaved its way through each new nook and cranny. Little dust funnels were created, played with for a few seconds, and then discarded to fall back to earth and become brick dust once more. Justin, trying hard not to think about the fact that Jesse had fallen one level already and was almost about to do the same thing again, locked his eyes onto a pair of the small whirlwinds and watched them as he edged himself and Jesse back from the side of the chasm.

"It's no good, he must be caught somewhere, he's just not moving." Tom's voice relayed the depressing message and Justin nodded. He had just realised himself that they weren't making the progress they should and so carefully, releasing his grip on Jesse's pants, he edged sidewards until he was past the prone form and able to see into the gap.

Looking down Justin wasn't sure at first what he was actually hoping to see. The area was hollow between the floorboards of the third level and the ceiling of the second but the wood was jagged and rough and it was clear that Jesse's top was caught in more than one place along the splintered edge. Carefully, so that he could test the strength of it, Justin placed a hand on the floor that was beyond Jesse's legs but immediately it creaked and groaned and some of the plaster from the lower level ceiling crashed to the floor below.

"Dammit, that won't work." Justin's mind was foggy, breathing was becoming harder and harder for him and he knew that he had inhaled a lot of stuff which was better left alone.

"What's your name?" Tom's voice broke into his thoughts and he jerked his head up, coughing again as he did so.

"Justin, why?"

"Move back, carefully, Justin, that's it … so that you're the other side of Jesse. Easy does it," Tom paused while the young man coughed and retched again, "one more shuffle should do it." He let out a deep breath and then smiled, "So what's caught?"

"Mmm, what?" Justin knew the question was important but he was finding concentration hard too.

"What part of him's caught? Pants or top?"

"Oh, top, his top."

With a smile Tom reached into his medical pack and brought out a scalpel. He pulled the plastic protector off with his teeth and then, making sure that he had a firm hold on Jesse's arm with one hand, began to slice through the material of the t-shirt. As soon as it was split from neck to hem Jesse jerked free of the gap and Justin, suddenly jolted into action, grabbed him by the leg and pulled him, with Tom, to a safe distance from the hole, just in time to see the newly cleared piece of floor disappear down to the lower level.

"Tarnation, that was close!" Tom let out the breath he was holding and looked again at his companion. "Justin, I'm gonna need your help to get Jesse into the Stokes. Once he's safe they'll send down the winch and you and I will go up together, ok?" As he spoke Tom was putting Jesse's leg into a protective splint and then, knowing from the buffeting that the chopper had received on its outward journey, he bound the two legs together to protect the injury from any further damage on the trip back up to the helicopter.

"Yeah, yeah ok." Justin's voice was croaky from the dryness and so he nodded as he spoke and then, as gently as possible, grasped Jesse's ankles and took the strain as they lifted the doctor up and placed him into the basket-like stretcher. Then he watched from his vantage point as Tom carefully strapped Jesse to what looked like a backboard, covered him with blankets, which had been sent down in the Stokes, and fastened him into the stretcher with straps across his knees, hips and chest.

A short instruction was relayed by Tom and the Stokes rose into the air, heading straight upwards until suddenly, as it cleared the building and the wind took it, the stretcher smashed into what remained of the front wall. As it bounced back again both men looked up anxiously, but it was too far away for either of them to see if Jesse was ok.

The wall, that had been so recently buffeted, teetered for a few agonising seconds, and then, as if wanting to make its final seconds memorable, collapsed back into the room in a slow and almost graceful movement.

The dust that rose up covered Justin and he felt himself begin to cough and heave before the room faded away around him.

ooo

The journey back to Community General began a reawakening in Mark. He watched his son being treated realising, and accepting, that he was, for the time being at least, just a bystander but knowing that once they arrived at the hospital he would retake his rightful place in Steve's life. After a while a message came through that Jesse was safe and he moved slightly so that he could take hold of Steve's left hand and, as he held on to it, he finally let himself hope for a positive future.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Chapter Ten**

Pain was the first thing that he was conscious of, the lack of pain. Slowly, trying to get his bearings before looking around him, he concentrated on where he was, what he was lying on and began to realise that he was safe.

That feeling was almost as hard to deal with as the agony he had been forced to endure and the fear that it would be a dream, which would disappear if he opened his eyes, helped to keep them firmly closed. He tried to picture his dad, tried to get that face back up in his mind and found that the image was one of his father looking at him and telling him that he was there for him.

"Dad?" The sound of his own voice startled him and he blinked waiting for either the welcoming or terrifying sight, which would greet him.

"I'm here, Steve." Mark had watched his son fight the demons which prevented him from facing the world and, not wanting to scare him any more than he already was, had forced himself to remain silent but now a dam burst within him and again he had to will himself to say nothing more than a few words.

"Good." His eyes fluttered closed and Mark knew that it would be at least two or three hours before he woke again.

Mark's estimate had been almost exactly right and two and a half hours after he had drifted off to sleep Steve began to stir once more. This time though he became distressed almost immediately and as he looked at his father his anguish got worse and for a moment Mark glanced at the sleeping form of Jesse across the room, but he knew that with the mild sedative he had been given the young doctor wouldn't be disturbed.

"I'm … sorry, Dad." The memories had flooded his mind as he saw the hospital room and knowing that he was safe he couldn't stop his throat constricting and the sob, which was torn from him, caused his chest to flare with pain. "I … I tried … so hard … but I … I couldn't …" the words stopped and despite the agony he felt Steve let the tears fall.

Mark didn't know what exactly had caused his son's despair but he did know that crying, which would hurt in one way, would be healing in another, and so, for a short while, he let him continue. Finally though, when he could stand it no longer, he reached out and carefully touched Steve's hair.

"Shhh. That's enough now. Whatever it was that you couldn't do, it doesn't matter any longer."

"She … I … I couldn't see you … your face … I couldn't see your face." He didn't think he had ever felt as lost as when he'd realised that even the security of his father's face in his mind had been ripped from him. "She … she beat me, Dad."

"No, Son, she didn't. We found you and Melosa is dead." He thought the words would help but all they seemed to do was increase Steve's agitation.

"No … no … she can't be … she killed…" He stopped, for a moment the words were too awful to even contemplate speaking.

"Who? Who did she kill?" Mark looked worried, had they missed someone?

"Amanda … Dad … she killed Amanda … I couldn't … stop … her."

All Steve's energy was gone now and, even in the depth of his despair, his eyes were getting heavy but Mark knew he had to keep his son awake for just a little longer.

"Steve, no. Amanda is alive. She's in the next room down the hallway with Ron glued to her side."

"She … I woke up and … she was gone … I thought … she wanted me to … oh, God." He closed his eyes, the emotions he was feeling were too intense for him in his weakened state and, unable to deal with them any longer, he drifted back into the darkness.

ooo

"Doctor Travis, you don't know how good it is to see you." Justin had come into Community General for a check-up and taken the opportunity to visit with the young man whose life he'd saved.

"I'm only here because of you. Thank you, Justin. I guess Steve and I owe you free ribs for life."

Jesse looked across to his friend's bed and could see him lying unresponsive with Mark by his side. So far the two of them seemed to be asleep at different times. The elder man had come across and spoken with Justin for a moment or two but had been almost immediately drawn back to his son. "I know I saved him, but without you that would have meant nothing, to any of us." He spoke the words knowing that if he had died then Steve's rescue would have been worth the sacrifice but only in his own eyes. After a moment he looked back at Justin. "I'm sorry you got hurt too, but thank you."

He nodded his head slightly, "My pleasure, and I wasn't really hurt, it was just brick dust and flying glass. I don't think I'll even have any scars to prove my tale." The cuts and bruises were already fading and Justin knew that compared to everyone else he had got off lightly. "How are you doing?"

Jesse's face clouded over for a moment but then he forced a smile back onto it. "It's gonna be a tough road. I don't remember any of it after you took Steve, but I saw Cheryl and she told me." He looked down at his hands before speaking again. "My leg is broken in two places, I jolted and jarred myself and I was bleeding internally too. You came back for me, I won't forget that."

Justin felt his face colour in embarrassment and soon neither man knew what to say, but both of them did know that a friendship had been forged which would stand the test of time.

ooo

"No! Take it away … oh, God … take it away!" The voice was hysterical and suddenly monitors began to scream, alerting the nursing staff to a major problem in room 2l5.

Mark, who had stepped out to consult with a colleague for just a few minutes, rushed back, recognising the voice and the terror it contained.

"Oh, Sir, she won't hurt you. Mimi just loves everyone." The woman sounded most indignant and could be heard above the mechanical beeping. "She is so good at helping people to get well."

"No … please … no." He tried to back away, hearing sounds, commotion, and knowing that he was causing it, "Take it … away." The last word disappeared as he collapsed back against the pillow the agony that his panic had caused finally sending him into the welcome darkness of unconsciousness.

The woman was ushered out as an emergency team rushed in but, in losing consciousness, Steve had relaxed sufficiently for his body to begin to function properly again and the readings began to return to normal.

"Steve, can you hear me?" Mark tried to keep the urgency he felt out of his tone and took a deep breath as there was no reaction and spoke again.

"Steve, son, she's gone, the dog has gone, it's ok again now."

Gradually he felt a response, first it was his son shaking, the fear that he felt being transmitted physically, and Mark looked with concern at the numbers on the machines by the side of the bed, but they stayed within safe limits and, with a smile, he dismissed the other staff members still in the room with him and was grateful that Jesse had felt well enough to go and call his mother.

"It's just us, Steve. You can open your eyes; there's nothing to be afraid of now." The words were working and, as the sound of the door clicking shut was heard, Steve did as he was told and looked up, with fear filled blue eyes, at his father.

"Oh, God, Dad, help me."

ooo

Ron sat on the side of the bed with Amanda curled up into his body fast asleep. During a second therapy session she had finally released some of her emotions, letting go of the guilty feelings she had kept bottled up for over a week. The tears, which had engulfed her after the counselling appointment ended, had worried him, but he knew that she needed the relief they would bring and so he hadn't tried to stop them, gently rubbing her back, her arm, her hair, anywhere so that he could keep a physical contact with her as she cleansed herself.

The collapse of the building next to the one that Amanda had been kept in had caused an internal wall to fall across her crushing her upper body and restricting her airways to such an extent that by the time he had found her she had no longer been breathing.

The memory of performing CPR on the woman he loved was etched on his soul and Ron knew that he would never forget the helplessness he'd felt as each breath he pushed into her hadn't been the one to restart her breathing for her. By the time they arrived at Community General she had been on a ventilator and, after surgery on a shattered right elbow, he had finally been able to sit with her and realise that she wasn't going to die.

They had spent the next week in almost total silence, dancing around the subject of her abduction and confinement until he had wondered whether she would ever be able to talk about it.

That morning though James Barrington had come to see her again and finally broken through her defences. They had talked for over two hours and then, when she had returned to the room, she had cried herself to sleep against him. Now though, she was waking up and he carefully helped her into a more comfortable position and for a moment she hesitated but finally the words she had dreaded came out.

"I need to explain … but I'm scared." She tried to turn away, knowing that she had started a process which would end with her admitting to something she was desperately ashamed of.

"You don't need to be scared any more. She's dead, Amanda, she can't hurt us again unless we let her." He wanted to take her into his arms, to hold her tight and protect her but knew that she wouldn't let him and that even if she did it would hurt her too much.

"That isn't what scares me." Her voice had been so quiet that Ron had to move a little closer to hear what she said next. "I'm frightened that you'll hate me, you'll all hate me, when you know what I did."

Ron didn't answer, the surprise he felt that she could think that way overpowered him for a moment, but then he realised that she was waiting to begin and so he smiled slightly and tried to encourage her.

"I think it'll take a lot to make me or anyone else do anything but love you."

Amanda nodded her head and a shadow of pain crossed her face. A large section of wall had pinned her by the neck, shoulders and chest, leaving her head free from all but small pieces of debris and, although she couldn't remember being trapped, any movement hurt her and caused other unpleasant memories to surface.

She wished that Mark was here too, but she knew that Steve was having a difficult afternoon and so that was impossible. "Ron, please, just listen. When I've finished …" She paused, "I don't know what you'll think but please wait."

He nodded his head, this was so important to her, to them, that no words were adequate and instead he took her small hand into his and waited for her to start speaking.

After a moment or two she did so and he was suddenly there in the warehouse with her sharing her agony.

_"So, Amanda, I can call you, Amanda, can't I? You cry for your friend do you?"_

Thevoice of the woman who had taken her sounded loud and clear and it was almost as if she was in the hospital room with them.

_"Of course I do! You've done nothing but torture him since you brought him here. Your brother killed someone but Steve was just doing his job when he arrested him."_

_"Yes he was, I realise that, but he wouldn't have been able to if his interfering father hadn't been around. I failed with the old man, but I've been watching and thinking and this time he'll have no way to stop his son from dying. He **will** find two bodies, maybe even together." _

Amanda fell silent; she was almost afraid to breathe.Melosa seemed so close to her again that she could smell her perfume, feel her hair as it brushed against her and she shivered.__

"Shhh, I'm here, it's just you and me." Ron spoke quietly and then listened again as Amanda began to tell him what else Melosa Arriaga had said.

_"Or I could change my mind you know, I might just take you someplace else and then call your friends to come get you."_

_"And Steve?" Amanda had to ask, even though Melosa's voice had been hard with hatred as she had spoken of him._

_"Oh no, he stays here. He's so handsome, so loyal, so sexy, but oh so stupid. Did he really think I would leave him alone? Didn't he know that if he survived I would come back and hunt him down again?"_

_"Of course he knew, we all knew, but he isn't the type of man to live in fear. He's proud to do the job he does, to help rid the city of those that break the law. But then you wouldn't know anything about honour or goodness would you?"_

_Melosa's hand had swept towards her then but she stopped short and laughed. "All his honour and goodness has done is gotten him, and you, if you stay, into even more trouble than before. I have no intention of leaving either of you to the elements this time. Man will kill you. Or to be more precise one man, but he will know nothing of it until it is too late to do anything about it. The decision is yours, my dear; do you let me take you where your friends can find you and maybe give you the chance to look for him, or do you stay?"_

_Amanda had been silent, but her mind was in turmoil. She could see the faces of her children, of CJ, a daily reminder of Colin and what they once had, Dion, who needed the stable and loving upbringing she was trying so hard to provide for him. Her mother would take over, would raise them in the same way she herself had been raised, of that she had no doubt. Then she thought of Ron, so loving, so tender, so different when he was away from everyone else and it was just them. She looked at Steve, alone and badly hurt; there was no way that she could leave him. But if she did go then maybe she could get to Mark, to Ron and could tell them where he was. But what if the unthinkable did happen and he died here? She knew that she would want Mark to know that his son hadn't been alone._

_"I can't leave him. I'll stay."_

_"It's your life or death in this case." _

_Melosa had walked back to where Steve lay, still out cold on the floor, and she had crouched down beside him to place a lingering kiss on his unresponsive lips, then once she had taken her pleasure she jammed her fist hard against his dislocated shoulder to cause him pain before standing up and heading for the door._

_"Have fun, kiddies, see you in the morning."_

"Why would I hate you? I don't understand." Ron looked at her; the guilt in her eyes was heartbreaking. This was what Melosa had talked about as she lay dying and suddenly he knew that there was more to come.

"She came back … I don't know how long it was, but she came back."

_"I've been thinking." The voice had startled her and Amanda realised that she must have dozed off. "Your children will miss you so much. I think that your boyfriend will have suffered enough for killing my babies. I know how much I miss them; your children will be missing you. Are you sure that he is worth the knowledge that they will spend their lives alone because you chose him over them?" A foot had kicked out at Steve as she spoke and he had moved and moaned slightly._

_"Stop it! Stop it!" She had wanted to cover her ears, to be able to shut out the words which had been going round her own mind ever since she had turned down the chance of freedom. "How can I leave him?"_

_Melosa had thought for a moment and then smiled. "Would you leave him if I gave you some indication of where he was before freeing you? I don't plan on having him killed for at least another day – you may even be in time to save him."_

The tears began again and Ron couldn't get her to look at him as she moved away painfully from his touch.

"I agreed … I took my own personal freedom and left him there. He moved as I tried to tell him what I was doing, but I don't know if he heard me. But … but …" the sobs racked her body and her breath began to come in short gasps. Now he was seriously concerned for her and moved to press the buzzer to call someone but she stopped him. "No … I have … I have to finish."

_The cuffs were unhooked from the chain, which had attached her to the wall, and then the ankle restraints were unlocked. _

_"Would you like to say goodbye and tell him what you are doing?" The tone had been mocking but she had taken Melosa at face value and moved across to kiss him._

_"Steve, I love you and I'm sorry, I have to go, for CJ and Dion's sake, I have to go, but I'll try to get Mark and Jesse here before it's too late."_

A pause filled the room and Ron gently turned her head so that she was facing him, knowing what was coming next and wanting her to know that he shared her agony.

"She tricked me. I let her take me away … he was alone again and he … he thought I was dead." She had been wheeled in to see Steve the day after he regained consciousness and the two of them had spent a little time together. She hadn't been able to tell him what had happened, and his tears at finally seeing for himself that she was still alive had driven the guilt-covered dagger deeper into her heart.

"I got out onto the stairs and she put a gun to my head. I knew then that she had lied. I begged her to let me go back, to stay with Steve, but she wouldn't. She … she pushed me down the stairs and I couldn't keep my balance. Then she … she pulled me up by my hair, it … it felt as if some came out in her hand and … and she left me where you found me."

"Amanda, you're a mom, Steve would have understood why you left, you know that."

"But she didn't tell him! He woke up alone and thought she had killed me." The tears finally took her over completely and Ron knew that if there was any more of her story to come it would have to wait until another day.

ooo

Gradually Steve's terror had subsided and Mark had sat next to him in a reasonably comfortable chair and taken his hand. "I am so sorry."

"What? Why are you sorry? It's not your fault I'm afraid of dogs." Amazingly Steve found himself in a position which was, for the moment at least, restful and not causing his battered body to recoil in pain and so he looked up and saw his father's face lined with worry and guilt.

"All of this, everything that happened to you, it was my fault. I should never have interfered in your life. I promise, I won't do it again."

"Without you 'interfering' as you call it, it isn't a life I want to lead."

The room descended into silence as the two men looked at each other until finally Steve swallowed hard and then pierced his father with a gaze so intense that it was all Mark could do not to turn away.

"But … but look at yourself, Steve." Although he was warmed by his son's words he knew that none of this would have occurred without him and he still knew what he had to do.

"Twice she took you, she didn't want to kill you, it was me she was after. But you're the one who suffered; both times you're the one who suffered." Now he did have to look away as the emotions threatened him and he had vowed that his son would never see him cry over this.

"Dad, listen, please." Steve closed his eyes for a moment; he wasn't sure he was ready for this conversation but he knew that if he didn't pursue it now his father was likely to shut down and never mention it again.

"I'm the one who should be sorry; I'm the one who has a career which puts me in danger every day even though I know you hate it. I'm sorry I'm so selfish that I can't give it up." For a moment he paused and then taking in as much breath as his damaged lungs would allow he carried on talking. "I'm sorry; truly sorry that I have hurt you. But I'm not sorry that I have a career where I get to spend time with you, get to see your expertise put to good use solving the most difficult of crimes and where, between us, we have managed, with Jesse and Amanda, to put away some evil people. I … I love you, Dad."

For a moment Mark let the words seep into his soul, he wanted to remember them, wanted to be able to play them back again when he was alone and never forget them. He felt Steve's hand on top of his own and realised that his son had started to speak again.

"Dad, before … Melosa … took me again." He was determined that her name would lose its power over him and so he forced himself to use it. "You didn't mean … Dad," Steve wasn't sure how to put his plea into words and in the end he just blurted it out, "I … I need you to keep doing what it is you do. I wouldn't want to work without knowing you were there to listen, to help, to be there for me." In his weakened state his emotions took a strong hold as he finally pleaded with his father, "Dad, please, please, don't retire."


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter Eleven**

The sun was high in the sky and the sand was home to a scattering of families enjoying each other's company as well as the weather and the water.

The sounds of laughter and conversation floated on the slight breeze and reached the man sitting alone on his deck. Mark was more than comfortable and didn't want to move any part of himself for as long as was humanly possible.

The house was quiet but he knew that it was also full. Steve and Jesse had been home from the hospital for a little over two days and it was the first time that they had both been awake at the same time since then.

Cheryl had visited for a little while; mainly to see her partner but also to tie up a few loose ends and let them all know one final sad piece of news.

"_We found Melosa's home, by chance really, the neighbours complained about the bloodhound roaming free in the front yard." She had stopped talking and Mark knew she had heard Steve gasp and was waiting for him to calm himself._

_"Sorry." The fear in his son's eyes hadn't surprised him but he had a feeling that Cheryl was concerned for her partner, she hadn't said anything, but just watched for the right moment to continue._

"I went in with the Captain, just in case there were things you wouldn't want others to see." Again she had paused, this time as both he and his son had thanked her for her consideration.

_Mark knew how proud and private Steve was, if there were things to be found, then Cheryl and his captain were the only two people he could cope with finding them. _

_"She'd been watching you, or someone had, almost since the day you were released from the hospital the first time, Steve. There were pictures, notes and letters which I think she meant to send out to you, Mark, once Steve and Amanda were dead." _

_He had looked and seen a folder in Cheryl's hand and knew that it contained information that would hurt and upset them. There had been a letter mailed from Melosa telling him where Steve and Amanda's bodies could be found, he hadn't read that and he knew he didn't want to read any of this either._

_"Do we have to see it?" Steve asked the question before him and he had noticed his son's left hand was held in a tight fist._

_"No, and I wasn't gonna offer it to you. Oh, this." Cheryl had suddenly realised what Steve had seen. "No, this is something else. Melosa didn't just kill the woman who scared you, Steve. She tortured and killed a young man who showed her how to sabotage Jesse's car."_

_Mark realised instantly that Steve knew what Cheryl was talking about, and Jesse, who had been sitting quietly on the sofa listening to every word, shook his head. "So it was her. I don't think I would ever have guessed."_

After Cheryl had left the room Jesse had talked with Mark for a little while and explained about the case Amanda had been working on. Steve had gone with Cheryl and they could be heard talking in another part of the house and Mark had been glad for the few moments alone with his friend.

"_Jesse, I owe you an apology."_

_"You do? Why?" The confusion on the young man's face was as apparent as his usual cheerfulness._

_"Because you tried, over and over, to help me before Steve and Amanda were taken and I pushed you away every time. You were right, I do need to talk about all of this, and I will, by the end of the week I promise you I'll have made at least one appointment to see a therapist."_

_The grin on Jesse's face told him how much his words meant but he knew that he hadn't finished and so he carried on speaking. "I can't begin to thank you for what you have done. Twice you saved Steve, I know that he is only here because of you and I won't forget that. But I nearly lost you, and that would have hurt just as much as losing Steve." His words had dried up then and he had stopped talking and begun to move away._

_"Mark." The voice was full of emotion and he had crouched down so that he was as close as possible to Jesse's side. "Thank you and I'm glad I could help. You knew they were in the docks, without that information we would never have found them in time. We are a group, a family. I just played my part in that group."_

_In a moment of sudden frivolity he had reached over and tousled Jesse's hair and then, knowing that no more words were needed, had left the young man looking totally at home on the sofa and returned to his own peaceful seat on the deck._

Just after Cheryl left Amanda and Ron arrived, but she had looked tired and Mark had insisted that she go and lie down for a little while. As he had known he would Ron had gone with her. Mark didn't think that the FBI agent had left her side for a moment; apart from the hours he'd had to work, since she had been found a little over three weeks earlier.

Mark had been worried about Amanda, had seen the circles under her eyes while she had been in the hospital, and finally, two days before she was due to go home, he had cornered her consultant and expressed his concern to him. Without breaching doctor- patient confidentiality Mark had been told that she was finding it hard to sleep, that there was something on her mind, which was causing her great distress. Amanda must have been worried about it too because the next morning, while Jesse was in x-ray, she'd had Ron wheel her into the room next to her own so she could talk with her friends.

_"Amanda, Honey, is everything alright?" Mark had moved over and pushed the wheelchair closer to the bed as Ron had left them alone._

_"No, not really, I need to talk to you, to both of you, before I lose my mind."_

_Mark had glanced over at Steve and had seen that his son couldn't keep his eyes off their friend's beautiful face. The agony of thinking Amanda had died was over but Mark knew that for a long while Steve would want to drink her in at every opportunity and be thankful that she was still with them._

_"It has to do with Melosa doesn't it?" Mark realised that she would need someplace to start and so he hoped to help her._

_"Doesn't everything in our lives right now?" Her tone had been bitter and Mark had seen Steve nod. "But yes, you're right. I have to tell you what happened to me. Steve, Mark, please, listen to all of it, and then try to help me understand why I did what I did."_

The telling had been distressing for all of them and both Amanda and Steve had fought their emotions, his son more successfully than his friend, during the explanation, but finally it had been finished and Steve had been the first one to speak.

_"She used you, just as much as she used me. Honey, if I had known that she'd given you the chance to return to your family I would have urged you to take it." He had paused for a moment to take a breath and Mark had seen him compose himself a little. "You're a mom, I don't deny that I needed you, and you knew that, but I never would have made you choose. Your children need you to guide them along the path to the rest of their lives … in the end when we die we are all alone, but your children are very much alive and they should be with you." Again he paused and Mark had known that there was something else weighing him down and he hoped against hope that his son would take the chance and unburden himself. Finally, after a very tense few moments he did just that. _

_"I … I thought that while I was unconscious she had taken you away…" Steve closed his eyes and it was clear for all to see that his emotions were threatening him again. "I saw her shoot a cop in cold blood, she tried to kill Dad, me, and you said that you were Ron's punishment for her dogs being killed. I was sure … I was sure you were dead … I wish … I wish I'd known …" _

Mark knew that the two of them had already spoken to each other and Steve's relief at seeing her alive had been apparent in his recovery rate since that meeting, but once they knew a little of what the other had gone through they needed time alone again and he had quietly spoken a few words before slipping outside to see how Jesse was getting on. When he had returned Steve had been asleep but Mark had seen from Amanda's face and demeanour, as she sat watching over him, that any worries she might have had, had begun to be dealt with and he knew that her recovery too would progress far easier now.

ooo

"You know, I don't think you're like him at all." Jesse pressed the button on the remote and the TV screen went blank.

"Thank you, I hope that's a compliment." Steve smiled and looked back down at the piece of paper in his hand. Cheryl had sent him an e-mail, which contained a quiz to show what cartoon-character you were most like. He had scored 29, which meant he was someone called _Spongebob Squarepants_. Having seen the program he wasn't sure if he would ever tell his partner the results.

The room went quiet and Steve looked across at his friend, he was lying on the sofa with a fleecy throw across his legs which covered the hip to foot plaster cast he would be wearing for at least another six to eight weeks. The bruising on his face was receding and he, at last, looked like the Jesse that Steve knew and loved.

As he moved slightly Steve saw Jesse wince and his heart grew heavy with guilt. "Jesse."

"Yeah?" The tone of Steve's voice made an instant impression and Jesse looked up and saw the seriousness of his face. "What? What's wrong?"

"How do I thank you for what you did? Not just for me, but for Dad too." From the moment that Steve had been able to concentrate on others and not just himself again, he had known that his father was different, his whole demeanour had changed and, although he wasn't his old self yet, the improvement was down to Jesse.

"Steve, don't." Jesse was embarrassed, even thinking about what he had done made him feel uncomfortable, proud but uncomfortable. He didn't know if he could talk about it with Steve, not so soon after his conversation with Mark.

"You saved me, again. I don't remember … she … I was up high … but I don't know why and that … that ball." He shuddered, and closed his eyes for a moment but knew that he couldn't let this moment pass. "I need you to tell me what happened."

Jesse realised that, whether he wanted to talk about it or not, he had been waiting for this conversation and, with a deep breath; he prepared to mentally return to the warehouse.

Jesse talked for over an hour, not looking up at his friend after the first few difficult sentences, concentrating on what had happened and knowing that seeing Steve's reactions would make it ten times harder than it already was to relate his tale.

"Jess." The voice was soft, different to the way it usually sounded and he looked up to see his best friend had moved across the room and was sitting in the chair next to the foot of the sofa.

"When I was growing up, when it was just Carol and me and she was into dolls and giggly friends I always wanted a brother. Someone I could do what I thought was the fun stuff with. As I got a bit older and realised that even though my dad and Uncle Stacy were miles apart in distance, they were as close as could be in every other way, I wanted that too. Then Carol died and I discovered that just because you were family it didn't mean that you necessarily got on and I wondered whether any brother- brother relationship I might have had would have floundered like the brother-sister one did and I began to be grateful for what I'd had and what I'd gained. Jesse, I didn't know it was possible to find someone who would come into my life and be more than all the parts which made up the non-existent brother and I don't know how to finish what I'm saying, or even if makes sense, but thank you, thank you for being there when I needed you, for being my friend … just thank you."

Jesse blinked back the tears and then swallowed hard. "My background was so different to yours, but I wanted the same thing. I wanted a brother, preferably an elder brother, who could teach me stuff. I always wanted to know about things, how they worked, why they did what they did. I figured it would be cool to have a brother to hang out with and find that out. Mom was always working and Dad, well he left and I knew that it was my fault because I didn't do exciting things."

Jesse paused for a moment and tried to fight past the feelings of failure, which always hid just beneath the surface. "Being a doctor is an exciting thing for me. Sure my mom's a doctor and yeah I wanted her to be proud of me, but all that investigating, discovering what's wrong and making it right again, I just love it."

Jesse didn't know it but his eyes were shining and the enthusiasm for his job was written all over his face and Steve, despite the seriousness of the conversation, couldn't help but smile.

"When I got the chance to work with you, when you let me help even though I was a klutz, got too enthusiastic and blundered about, it was just wonderful. I don't know when it was but gradually I realised I had that brother I wanted, but I'd got more than I ever dreamed of. You spent time with me because you wanted to, you let me help because you wanted to and your dad did too. It took me a long time but when I arrived here and felt that sense of belonging I knew I wouldn't ever want to be anywhere else or with anyone else. I guess we both get more from being friends than we ever hoped, huh?"

"I guess we do." The room was suddenly quiet and for a while neither man knew what to say. Finally, unable to stand the silence any longer Steve spoke up.

"Wanna beer?" Seeing his friend nod he made his way out of the room knowing that Jesse could probably hear his heart singing as he did so.

ooo

The sun had finally set on a beautiful day and Steve and Mark had both watched it go down in the company of friends they had come far too close to losing.

Now though, with Amanda and Ron on their way back into town and Jesse already fast asleep in the guest room, they were alone and Steve watched as his father cupped his hot mug of coffee between his hands and blew gentle spirals of the steam into the air.

"Dad." Steve hesitated to break his father's reverie but in the end knew he had to.

"Yes, what is it?" There was anxiety in Mark's eyes as he turned but seeing only love on his son's face he relaxed.

"We never did finish our conversation in the hospital, and I didn't get a chance to speak with you after the meal we had with Ron. Dad, I'm worried about you."

"I know and I'm sorry." Mark looked at his coffee, now the love was too difficult to acknowledge. He had never wanted to cause anyone that he cared about any concern but somehow; again, he hadn't been able to help it.

"Dad, I know he probably shouldn't have, but Jesse told me that you said you thought you were ruining my life, that the bad things were happening because of you. I can't believe you would think that. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew you would deny it, I didn't think that I could voice my fears to you in case you realised they were all true and backed away from me. Steve, I don't want to suffocate you, I want you to have your own life, but I want to be a part of it too. Is that so wrong? How could it all fall apart like it has? I was trying to do good things." Mark looked down at his coffee again and then took a mouthful of it. He didn't have anything more to say right now and wasn't sure how his son would answer.

"Sure I would deny it, because it isn't true." Steve paused for a moment before carrying on. "You know, I could move out tomorrow if I wanted to. Well, maybe not tomorrow, it's kinda difficult with this arm." Steve touched the sling with his left hand and then smiled. "I've had offers y'know."

"I'm sure you have. So why haven't you taken any of them?"

"Because in the end it wasn't what I wanted. Dad, I don't live here because of any pressure I feel, I live here because this is my home. I work with you because you bring an extra dimension to my job that I can't replicate or replace. You are my father, first and foremost, and one of the wisest, kindest people it has been my privilege to know, but as well as that you are one of the best friends I have ever had." Again he paused knowing that although he didn't want to continue he had to.

"If you want to stop working, stop advising the department, then I won't stand in your way I don't want you to be doing anything that you no longer enjoy. My selfishness has already caused you endless grief; I won't compound it by forcing you to work with me."

"Steve, look at me." Mark had watched his son suddenly become fascinated by the ocean as he finished speaking but he needed to see his face, to see the expression, which filled his eyes, and so he waited until finally, very slowly, his son did as he was told.

"Your grandfather was a good cop, I wish I'd had the chance to spend time with him as I grew but that was taken away from me. I always vowed that if I had children I would spend every moment I could with them until they shooed me away. I failed to do that. There was always one more patient to see, one more consult to finish and one more family occasion to miss. Then two things happened to make me realise what it was I'd done."

The deck became silent and Steve asked the question to which he already knew the answer. "What two things?"

"You went to fight in Vietnam and your mom died." The pressure increased in Mark's heart for just a moment and he paused before continuing. "I could suddenly see the importance of the ball games and birthday parties I'd missed, even just the sitting down together and watching cartoons, when I no longer had the chance, I wanted to do all those things with the man the boy had become and I prayed every day that you would come home and we'd have that opportunity. The time I spend with you is never forced upon me." He swallowed hard; talking about Katherine was always difficult, but somehow they had moved from the possibility of his retirement to his wife and Steve's mom and he knew that he had to unburden himself a little more than he already had.

"I always figured that I would have one more day with your mom. That each new dawn would bring the chance for us to live our lives to the end together. I was wrong. I cheated her. I failed her and I cheated her."

Steve didn't know where this part of the conversation had come from but he knew that for them both to move on with their lives he had to address it. "She never felt that way. She loved you, you, Carol and me; we were all she ever wanted. Dad, your whole life you have thought about everyone but yourself. Sure I missed you at some things, which were important at the time but, looking back, none of them matter as much as having you with me in my life now. There were times when Mom carried a burden, which would have been a little easier if you had been there, but she knew that she was supporting you the best way she could by doing that. You know that's true, don't you?"

Mark looked into the blue eyes which were now pleading with him to understand what his son was trying to say and, almost as if for the first time, he realised that both his son and his wife saw him for what he was; someone who needed to help others, whose career had always been so important to him because of that need. But he also knew now that they loved him and all the facets of his personality; that none of the parts had been more than the whole or had been tolerated because of the others and the warmth, which had been lacking, began to flood his soul again.

"Dad, please, you're a good, kind man. The things you do are always for the best don't let Melosa spoil that. Don't let her pull apart what we have."

"I don't think she could, could she?"

Steve smiled his agreement, "No, I don't think she could."

There was a more relaxed tone to Steve's voice and Mark knew that the conversation they had just had, however deep, however difficult or unusual had helped them both immeasurably and, for a while, they sat in a companionable silence just enjoying each other's company.

"I was wrong, wasn't I?"

"About what?" Mark wasn't sure what Steve meant.

"Together, you and I, Jesse and Amanda, with Ron this time, we're too strong for the likes of Melosa Arriaga, she would never have beaten us."

"No, she never would." Mark finally realised that, unless he allowed it, no one would beat him. Melosa had pushed him very close to being in that position, but the love of his family and friends had prevented it from happening. His house of cards was still standing, and if he had anything to do with it, it always would.

The End.


End file.
